Rise
by OrangeGalen
Summary: Harriet Potter has had enough of a corrupt Wizarding world and a manipulative Headmaster trying to dictate her life. Determined to leave this world she uses a ritual to throw herself into a new one for a fresh start... and to gain power, to be strong... to be feared. (Fem!Harry is Cinder Fall)
1. End of the Prologue

**Hello everybody, this is OrangeGalen with something a little bit different. This is actually my first challenge piece that I decided to do, presented by King Of Geth. The actual prompt was:**

 **"Harriet Potter knew the Wizarding World would turn on her after defeating Voldemort. So she turned to forbidden magic that been lost to time, and used a spell to travel to a random dimension. Lets hope the Wizarding World is ready for Cinder Fall."**

 **I'm not going to stake a claim on it. It's an open challenge and anyone can take a stab at it. This is just my version of it with some tweaks. The major difference from the prompt and mine is that this starts just before Harriet's fifth year and Voldemort is still at large but... well, you'll find out in the chapter.**

 **Now just a note, this is very much a work in progress as I have the beginning planned and an idea for the middle, but nothing definite yet, so the chapters may get worked over in the future.**

 ***And yes, I am still working on all (most) of my other stories, so don't pester me about them. Seriously.***

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 **Warnings: Fem!Harry, Dark!FemHarry, Bi-sexual!Harry, Dumbledore/some Weasley/Ministry/Order bashing. There may be others in the future.**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or RWBY.**

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 **Latest Edit: October 31, 2018: Grammar and clean up of inconsistencies, general writing standard improved.**

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Harriet Potter, the 'Girl-who-lived', wasn't surprised with how things were turning out. In fact, considering how history and past events played out, she would have been surprised if it _hadn't_ happened because that would have meant that they, the wizarding community of Britain, were breaking the trend. That the cycle of blind heroism one day and mindless betrayal the next was being bucked, that their sheepie mentality of following the loudest voices was being lost, and they could possibly actually make some progress in their culture and way of thinking. But they were too far-gone.

No, Harriet was not surprised at all. The Wizarding world of Britain was so archaic, so isolationist, so corrupt, that it kept running the same ignorant cycles over and over again that would lead to its self-destruction. She had a feeling that with either this cycle or the next would lead to the complete collapse of the entire British Wizarding society.

And it deserved to fall and burn. If she were still here when it happened, then she would smile gleefully. It had done nearly nothing for her, had taught her all the wrong lessons, and if she weren't so determined to leave she would've eventually brought it upon herself to tear it down kicking and screaming. She probably could prop herself up as their leader, their ruler. It would be easy to do, as Voldemort almost had done if not for a fluke.

Sitting alone in the Black Library, Harriet Potter turned another page in the book she was reading. Her golden amber eyes free of glasses as she read the words and examined the pictures on the pages, gorging themselves on the forbidden knowledge they held. _I could grasp power from them. Wouldn't be the first time. I've always had to take what I wanted to survive. I was never given, nor offered anything. The pathetic masses would sooner take than give back even after I 'saved' their sorry arses._

 _Even before I found out that magic existed I was treated like a freak. Abused, starved, occasionally beaten… And when I got to Hogwarts… nothing really changed. I was still ignored in favor of their built up image of their 'Savior'. And when I went against that image, that same fame turned against me with them not believing me even if what I was telling them was the truth. Loosing house points, crossing lines and making acquaintances in other houses, the whole Parseltongue and Chamber of Secrets thing, then that bloody tournament and Voldemort coming back just proves that they don't care._

 _And then that Kangaroo Court I just went through just further proves that the system and the people are corrupt without a doubt,_ Harriet fumed silently as she finished up the section she was reading. _No hard evidence against me, talking over me when I tried to defend myself, ignoring my side of the story, just like Fudge did when I said Voldemort had gotten a body back… not that it's in good shape right now,_ she smiled cruelly in remembrance to what she had done to him.

After the 'Dark Lord' resurrected himself using the bones of his father, Wormtail's hand, and her blood, the two 'dueled' in a ring of Death Eaters. After their wand cores interlocked, Harriet had done one last bit of magic when the megalomaniac was distracted with the echoes of his past murders. She focused her anger, her rage, her desire to hurt him through her wand, and an angular bolt of magic shot out of her wand and hit him. She enjoyed the shocked look on his face as her unknown spell hit, and then watched as half of the inhuman face froze when part of him turned into black glass. With the Death Eaters distracted over the condition of their lord, she took the opportunity to escape. Despite incapacitating their leader, she was not ready to fight multiple wizards at once. Pathetic as they are, they were still a threat she couldn't face then.

It wasn't until much after that she heard from Dumbledore (who had heard from Snape) that Voldemort was partially turned to glass, the right side of him hit the most, leaving the Dark Lord crippled, though still able to give orders and cast a few spells. The old man then chastised her for being cruel to her enemies when the smug grin slipped past her emotional mask. Something about being better than them, second chances, saving lives, or some other such rubbish.

And with that thought, the good mood Harriet was in flew away and a scowl twisted her face. _Bloody Albus-too-many-names-Dumbledore. Another reason why I want to escape, because if he gets his way I'd never live through this war. He was never intending for me to survive facing Voldemort. Less-than-qualified schooling, DADA professors trying to kill or injure me in some way, and all the events that happened every year were basically tests. And if the trend continues, then there'll be another incompetent or malicious teacher for DADA and some sort of event at the end of this school year._

 _And what is he testing me for? Why did he have so many meetings with me privately? Was it because of some sort of prophesy?_ Harriet had put together the hints (a little late for her tastes) when she basically had all the time in the world at Durzkaban to think, and then the little bit she was told when she arrived here at HQ about a 'weapon' in the Ministry. She had wondered why she was slated for Divination third and fourth year when she _knew_ that she had signed up for Arithmancy instead. And despite bringing this to McGonagall, the Headmaster overruled her every time.

Now that she was nearly free from the Headmaster's conditioning, she knew that he was trying to make her believe in prophecies. And admittedly she did too, or at least the concept, the idea of them. But she also believed that they could be fake, duds, or wildly misinterpreted.

 _And Dumbledore would've used his own interpretation as justification to control my life… to try and groom me. He sent me to the Dursleys where I was abused by for basically all my 'childhood' to break me, tested me with the Philosopher's Stone, basically left me to defend myself in the Chamber, neglected to get a trial for Sirius so I didn't have a chance for an alternate home, and did absolutely nothing to get me out of the Tri-Wizard tournament and didn't help me in the slightest for the tasks or the slander. All those private meetings in his office and meeting him around the castle alone… that just reeks of suspicion, especially with that grandfatherly act. Which might have worked if I was more naïve and actually wanted love and care._

 _A lot of his work was ruined fourth year, especially after he learned Voldemort had been resurrected himself. Though he seemed glad that the Dark Lord came back. And when I told him I incapacitated Voldemort, he basically said not to hurt or kill Voldemort or his followers and then sent me to Durzkaban, preventing all contact with my friends. Combine that all with the farce of a trial where he barely defended me- actually made me look worse despite winning. Then he never explained what was going on and hasn't had any eye-to-eye conversation with me, not that I ever would, knowing his little mind-reading trick now._

 _…I also suspect he used some potions or spells on me to further control me._

 _I've had enough. I will not be a pawn to be used. I want to be strong._

Harriet opened another section of the book and continued reading, having scoured the Black Library for everything she needed to make her escape. Not from Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Not from England, and not even Europe, but from this _world_. Harriet held no illusions that if she made a break for it, either Voldemort would send someone after her or Dumbledore would. Then it would be a toss up of how she would die. And _that_ was something she had no desire to do.

She knew that if she did a runner, then they would search the ends of the Earth to find her.

And in that sentence held her answer.

The ends of the _Earth_.

 _This_ world.

Though Number 12 Grimmauld Place was another prison, it was vastly superior to Privet Drive and the Dursleys as watchers. There was one vast metaphorical hole in the prison walls where she could learn how to escape.

The Black Library.

It was a pain to avoid the Weasleys (Molly and Ron in particular), Hermione (because she was so nosey and couldn't keep her mouth shut, despite being well meaning), Sirius (bless his heart but he was still being manipulated and probably not fully recovered from Azkaban), whoever else popped in like they were a part of a social club (which they honestly were), and the Head-manipulator himself (with his ever twinkling eyes and 'I-know-better-than-you' attitude). But she managed to catch a few hours a day after she had employed the Black house elf Kreacher into showing her the library... basically by telling the truth, from a certain point of view.

When she finally got across to him by appealing to house loyalty and getting him to overlook blood purity in favor of magical power, he gleefully keyed her into the library, the only person he willingly had so far.

It also helped that her grandmother was a Black before she married a Potter. Sped things along once he got a look at the tapestry.

Inside the library was a treasure trove of dark and forbidden magic. She had learned so much from these ancient books, things so dark that she shivered in delight and wanted to test them out. But she refrained because she knew that she would be caught and even worse restrictions would be placed on her… possibly hindering her magic and, more importantly, her mind. Though if everything worked out, she would not need restraint anymore.

She recognized that she had been raised as a martyr. But she desired to not be a pawn. Despite all the manipulations and outright denial, Dumbledore could not suppress her desire for power, for information, her desire to lead others. All her years at Hogwarts further cemented her belief in the rule of power and fear, and her distain for established authority. Her natural state to be in control over everything she does.

And in doing this, she'll free herself of the shackles that he tried to place on her.

There was nothing holding her back from leaving. There were no people that she would desperately miss or couldn't do without, though she would slightly miss a few of her informants and the one or two true friends she had left. Nothing holding her back save time and knowledge. Sirius she might've missed if he were fourteen years earlier and not as pathetic. He may be a Black in name, but in reality he was nothing like the once great house and she could not respect him for spitting on everything his family had to offer, rejecting the power the family had. She had heard that he wanted to get rid of this magnificent library, this history, just because he agreed too much with Dumbledore's 'everything dark needs to go' mentality. Dark does not mean evil, just as light does not mean good.

Though Harriet wouldn't classify herself as a dark-good person. She knew that she was tipping over the edge of what society would call 'evil'. For what they called 'evil', she saw as necessity and progress. She and Voldemort were alike in so many ways, but they could never exist together. Not because of some prophesy or to a larger extent ideology, but because they both wanted power, to lead. The Pureblood cause was only an excuse for him, a front; just like how her blooming network for bettering the lives of the less fortunate (i.e "Mudbloods") was hers. If she had another year or three, she could probably have the first-generation magicals lead an open revolution against the current government and be successful in another few years after. Oh well.

 _I suppose that my only regrets on leaving this world would not to see both Voldemort and Dumbledore crushed. But I'll be happy knowing when I'm gone that they'll see their plans centered around me topple. And if the Ministry gets its collective head out of its arse, they'll realize too late that I left them to wallow in the rot of their own making and will destroy itself. They deserve it all._

 _Strangely, or maybe not now that I think about it, Ginny Weasley was the only one that understands the most. Maybe it stems from the Chamber how I 'rescued' her, and now we have a quasi-mentorship between us. Or maybe it's because the same society that failed me equally failed her when she was possessed and no one noticed except me._ Harriet didn't want to admit it, but she felt something close to what may be described as affection for the feisty redhead. But because of her 'childhood' she had no idea what those emotions were, or how to identify them. There was something that happened when she thought of the redhead, but she dismissed it easily if she so wished.

 _She will understand why I left. Maybe Hermione will too if she stops blindly trusting authority figures and looks away from her books for a moment. She needs to see this world for what it is before it crushes her intellect underfoot. Muggleborns are even worse off than I could be. At least I have the Galleons in Gringotts... But they don't even have that, and without magical power they're going to be suppressed if they stay in the Wizarding world – which is why most don't. This world needs to change, but I won't be the one to do it. I'll carve my own path on another world._

She stopped reminiscing as a passage in the book caught her undivided attention.

….stories and myths of worlds and realms beyond this one have seeped into common folktales and raised questions about traveling to them. Avalon as the resting place of Merlin in a different realm. Camelot existing outside of time. The Old ways and the realms of the various Gods. Even the Archway is considered to be a gateway, but to the realm of Death. The only reason this is mentioned here is because of the questions that refuse to die. Is traveling to these realms possible? Can it be done? There has been no definite answer to this, but most magic theorists and tests point to a resounding 'No'. Why? One such reason may be that there is no knowing what lies beyond this world, for even now we can see the planets above but can never reach them. Many have tried, but the void above swallows all. Possibly our minds cannot fully comprehend what we want to completion. 

Some have thought about breaking the barriers between worlds, opening a gateway of sorts to a better world, one without the muggle scum where there's a magical paradise. But all such attempts have been inconclusive at best, and destructive at the worse. Few have attempted to use rituals to breach through the shroud of realities, many using rituals with powerful Wizards fueling their magic together to attempt this. However, the vast majority of these attempts end in failure, sometimes resulting in the deaths of all participants and/or a wave of magical backlash that left them as near squibs. 

There are two attempts recorded that had a better result; but the Wizard in the first disappeared for a couple weeks, and at the cost of three of the other wizards participating. When another ritual was attempted to retrieve him, the transported wizard returned, but with his mind broken and body ravaged, spouting gibberish, and aged slightly by a few months. The second instance ended with the wizard never returning and no one attempting to find him. 

With this it remains unclear as to if he succeeded or not, and questions as to the state of the first wizard's mind linger. Was his mind was broken during the passage there, or did something happen on the other side? Or perhaps his mind shattered upon return. In any case, even with the recent bans on ritualistic magic by the Ministry, it is highly doubtful that any would attempt this, and we the authors encourage that one tries to make this world purer in magic, rather than running and leaving it to filth. 

Harriet closed the book, flipping between satisfaction and disappointment. _Okay_. _On one hand, my belief that there are other realms or worlds has been explored in the past. But on the other almost certain death lies in that direction. Makes me want to reconsider. Almost._ Her yellow eyes narrowed. _There are a couple of things that I'm planning on doing differently. Rituals require sacrifice, though the level of sacrifice depends on the gains. The bits and pieces I've put together for my ritual require sacrifices/items that have special significance. It's symbolic that they would be the three most important things that link me to this world: that by sacrificing them I'd be cutting my ties to this world, releasing my earthly ties and readying by mind and body to be transported elsewhere. And three is a magically powerful number. Three sacrifices and myself, making four items total._

 _Another difference is all the previous attempts used the Wizards' own magical power, their core, to fuel the ritual. Shows how egotistical they were to think their own power could tear through reality properly. But now that I know it's possible, I have the green light to proceed. And I think I know a way to power my ritual._

She was so close, she just needed to check one last thing. Pulling over a book, she opened it to a page that she had marked previously.

As she read, a grin grew into a full out smile on her face.

She knew the place to have her ritual.

Stonehenge.

 _Instead of using my own magical power, I'll be using the magic of the land there to fuel my ritual. And Stonehenge is situated at the intersection of two magical ley-lines: one from the far north that runs from Ireland to there, and the other one going through Scotland here. I know it's dangerous to directly interact with ley-lines, for it can create ripples in all the other ley-lines with dire results. But the risks are outweighed by the gains._

 _A carefully sculpted ritual powered by two ley-lines. Three artifacts special to me, ready to be sacrificed. And then I have a little something to get through the dangers of inter-world travel,_ Harriet smirked as she fiddled with something in her pocket. Something that she never left unsecured or off her person for long.

Removing her hand from her pocket, she closed the book and with a wave of her wand the books strewn across the table started returning to their places. Another benefit for being here, the Underage Restriction on Magic didn't register under the roof of this house of magic. Also she got a kick out of seeing the rest of her schoolmates bumble around without magic trying to do all the things that Mrs. Weasley ordered them to do. All except Ginny, to whom Harriet let the little loophole slip.

She stood up and stretched, feeling her back pop a little. _How long was I here?_ "Tempus," she muttered. _Damn, they're probably wondering where I am right now._ "Well… at least it was productive." She paused and thought for a moment. "Kreacher!" With a soft 'pop', the old House Elf appeared in front of her.

"Yes Mistress? What can old Kreacher do for you?" The house elf asked, bowing.

"I found everything I need, but I don't want this library to fall into the wrong hands. Is it possible to seal this library so even Sirius can't get in?"

Kreacher wrung his hands for a moment before, as if fighting an unseen force, ground out, "Yesss."

Harriet frowned and crouched down, and placed a hand on Kreacher's forehead, channeling a bit of her magic into him. All of a sudden the house elf straightened up and said, stronger, "Yes. I can do that. Thank you Mistress."

"I am looking out for the interests of the Black family. Despite Sirius being a direct heir, he is not honoring the legacy of this family and has yet to prove he is worthy. Maybe when I leave he'll finally get his act together." As she said it though, Harriet knew that he wouldn't. Not while Dumbledore is still pulling the strings.

"I have to get back to the… rest of them. Once I'm gone, seal the library. Sirius will probably order you to open it, under the Headmaster's orders. Don't."

Kreacher nodded vigorously, his ears flapping a bit. "It will be my pleasure to deny the blood traitor," he grinned. Harriet nodded, not bothering to argue with him about blood purity and the hypocrisy of it.

She looked to the door and sighed. _Time to face the sheep_. She closed her eyes and surged her magic to them, willing a change to them. When she opened them, they were Avada Kedavra green, the same color as her mother's eyes. But now she could barely see as her vision was blurry. It took two tries, but she found her glasses and put them on, her vision clearing, and the mask was put on once more.

Early on she had discovered that she had the ability to change her eye color and hair length, later learning through the young woman Tonks that the ability was called Metamorphing, and very few people were full Metamorphmaguses. Harriet's was limited to her eyes and hair, and even that it was born out of necessity. Having golden eyes was another sign of 'unnaturalness' to the Dursleys, so she made herself have green eyes very early on. And it seemed to torment Petunia very much when she made the change, as she later learned it was coincidentally Lily's eye color as well, but at the cost of bad eyesight when they were green.

Collecting her notes and plans she held them in her hand and concentrated, willing her magic into her palm. Slowly the center of the parchments browned and then blackened, then a hole with smoldering embers formed and spread, consuming them until all that was left was crispy ashes, which she scattered into the Library.

"No traces, no leftover notes, nothing letting them bring me back," she said to herself, dusting off her hands. Harriet made for the doors, ignoring Kreacher popping out, and stepped out. She looked around and made sure that no-one would see her exiting.

Nonchalantly walking into the hallways of Grimmauld place, she was soon set upon by the head shrew, Molly Weasley. "Harriet, there you are dear! Where were you, we were worried that you were gone."

Harriet put an amicable smile on her face and shrugged in a 'what can I say' gesture. "Sorry Mrs. Weasley, but I got curious and started wandering the house."

"Oh, dear, you shouldn't do that at all, this house is full of dark magic and is dangerous. You shouldn't go wandering about."

Harriet looked sheepish. "I know, I'm sorry." She made an effort to look like she actually was.

"Oh, never mind that," Mrs. Weasley said, not able to stay disappointed at her for long… or not wanting to alienate her. "C'mon dear, Ron and Hermione are having dinner now. You should go join them."

Harriet nodded, but asked, "What about Ginny or the twins?"

"Oh they're doing something else, now hurry along to your friends," she said, completely deflecting Harriet's question. Harriet had to control herself to not narrow her eyes. _So he's finally noticed our closeness then and is trying to separate us while forcing the others on me._

Harriet shrugged again and said, "Okay, I'll see them later then."

"You will, don't worry," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile that Harriet felt was irritating. "Tomorrow's another day."

This time, the smile that Harriet had was sincere. "Yes. Yes it is." _And tomorrow is when I'll leave._

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 **Well? What do you think? Should I keep going? I'll do at least until Harriet ends up in Remnant (no surprise there) and that'll be about 5 chapters, then I'll see how things are if I should continue.**

 **For pairings, I am open to suggestions as I really have no preference.**

 **For those of you that know me, updates will probably be far in-between. For those of you who don't, just read the second part of the first sentence.**

 **Once again, I am not abandoning my stories for this, especially The Aura Mage. This is just something new.**

 **Alright, I'm done, see you next time!**  
 **Don't forget to Read, Review, Favorite, and Follow (R.R.F.F)**

 **-OrangeGalen**


	2. Determination

**Okay, so, there were four things happened that delayed this chapter: Thanksgiving break, Battlefield 1, Finals, Uno: The Movie, Finals Pt. 2. But I got through it, and here's the second chapter!**

 **Holy crap people, one chapter and in the first week I got _A LOT_ of Favorites. Like, over a hundred! I'll certainly be continuing this if that is the reaction I get from just one chapter! So to clarify, some things will stay the same, but I like to write butterfly effect scenarios. Little changes that make something bigger happen later, though because it is Harriet, some Cinder dialogue and motivation will be altered, bringing different consequences to the RWBY-verse. Though once again, things aren't going to go off the wall/script all the time. **

**On a side note, almost every time I wrote 'Harriet' in this, I had to stop myself from writing 'Cinder' (and I actually caught a few typos where I did just that when going over this).**

 **So there's going to be a bit more exposition in this chapter, and some in the next, but things will kick off soon, I promise. Just... power through all the backstory events.**

 **Let's give the readers a good chapter...**  
 **And Shipping is at the bottom.**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or RWBY.**

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 **Latest Edit: October 31, 2018: Grammar and clean up of inconsistencies, general writing standard improved.**

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Wednesday 16, August, 1995

Green eyes snapped opened, unfocused for the barest of seconds before the fog cleared, and glittered with unbridled thoughts. While she couldn't see clearly because her glasses were on the nightstand next to her -as she couldn't risk someone seeing her true eye colors yet- her thoughts provided her with everything needed to occupy herself. It was barely daylight judging from the angle of the sunlight creeping through the small gaps in the blinds so Harriet just laid there on her bed, her mind revising everything she had learned, preventing her from getting any more sleep. Not that she wanted to; too much to do even with all the preparation she's done.

 _This is the day I've been waiting for. This will be the day that I'll open up a door to a new world and escape this rot and the destiny that's been set for me. They're not going to hold me back anymore… deliberately or inadvertently._

Her gaze shifted over to the other bed and the sleeping form of Hermione, her muggleborn ally… and possibly her friend. But she really didn't know what constituted as one and had no experience having one. The Dursleys saw to that.

 _If it weren't for a few ironically Shakespearean flaws she had, I think I could truly enjoy her company as one of those friends. Alas, her love for authority and her blindness towards how the real world works is only hindering her, even after all my attempts to cease that. Though she is close to breaking free now, strangely enough. With the ministry's and Dumbledore's actions this year I can only hope that it breaks her devotion to authority. Then real change could begin since she has the determination and will to pursue any goal she wants._

Sighing to herself, Harriet pushed aside her blankets and stood up, pulling down her nightshirt from when it rode up sometime during the night. She went into the bathroom with her clothes and started to get ready for her final day here; though she couldn't give any hint that it was her last, lest the old man try to stop her. No, in this case she needed all of the qualities that almost got her sorted into Slytherin to accomplish her goals and slip out of Grimmauld Place for Stonehenge.

Yes, the Wizarding world's heroine almost got sorted into the perceived house of evil, save for three things. The first was that Harriet, back then, naïvely thought this was a chance to change, to be genuine in her actions and emotions: a last remnant of something not yet crushed and remolded by her life. She was eleven and still clinging to the idea of having friends and some normalcy. She quickly realized however that if she did reveal her true self, she would be persecuted for the sole reason that she didn't live up to _their_ image, their aspirations. Already jaded as she was, Harriet gave up the last bit of childishness in that first year.

The second was a person, or family really: Malfoy. When she met the blonde ponce she was still in the mindset that helped her survive the Dursleys of non-confrontation and avoiding the problem than utilizing other, subtler methods that she did know but didn't use - even if he was just a minor annoyance overall. Seven years in the same house with the boy was not something she wanted to deal with at the time, and still doesn't. Now however, she realized it would've been better to nip that nuisance in the bud than let it fester. She'd tried to nip it third year, but it was too late and too ingrained in his psyche for him to back off for more than a couple of weeks at a time. The damage was already done and exasperated by that bloody tournament fourth year.

The third choice for being sorted into Gryffindor was simpler, almost whimsical: she liked the colors of red and gold more, though she preferred a darker red than the flashy colors the house displayed.

Starting the shower, Harriet took a good look at herself in the mirror, without her glasses and her eyes her normal gold. She had medium length pitch black hair that was slightly messy. Apparently the 'Potter Curse' of uncontrollable hair was half broken with her; what lingered of the so-called curse made her look even more appealing, turning itself into alluring waves. She was 1.73 meters tall, having gone through a growth spurt during her third year and still growing after finally having room to stretch and grow, with also a decent amount of food and nutrients at Hogwarts. Some of her skinniness still showed, but it was fading and, if she kept eating and treating her body right, would become a beautiful body shape.

Speaking of, her figure was developing quite nicely to her satisfaction. She was definitely on the route for an hourglass figure and her breasts were growing as well, no longer as small as they were. The Yule Ball proved that she was indeed a young woman, as many males (and some females) would look at. It was fortunate for them that she went with one Neville Longbottom, as she would've socially and emotionally destroyed anyone else.

While Neville was far from the most confident person on the planet, Harriet had seen potential in him, which had been partially smothered at some point by his Grandmother and other relatives from what she gathered. Overbearing, overshadowing, and demeaning him by comparing Neville with his seemingly superior father. It was something that Harriet personally understood as she too was compared with her father and mother; expected to follow in their footsteps, something that she had no intention of doing. And Neville was further restrained by being forced to use his father's wand, which was unsuited for him. However he was still managing the spells in class some of the time, albeit those that worked were overpowered – like trying to put a garden hose on a fire hydrant.

Yes, Harriet saw potential in him… potential that she grasped by being friends with him and molding him into something _better_ than he was. Also something that she wanted and could use as well. Encouragements, personally teaching him, actually confronting him and working through things that bothered him… she went through the motions, wrote the acts, but never felt anything of them or for him.

Relationships were a mystery to her. There were a few people that she was… _fond_ of, and could enjoy their presence from time to time. But… _friends_? She didn't know and could care less.

She had invited Neville to the dance for a three-fold reason: one, she was required to go, and to not would be a direct snub to many that still held power. Two, the Yule Ball was a place to see and to be seen, i.e. to make alliances. Three, she knew going with a man would be expected of her, rather than a girl which would have the same end result as the first reason if she didn't go. Her sexuality was something that she could care less about as she found both genders pleasing to the eye. Or some members of both at least.

With Neville though, it was always the end goal of having somebody close that would follow her regardless of intention, but wasn't a mindless drone. The only other person was Ginny, but there were circumstances that Harriet herself wasn't comfortable with in the redhead's case.

Harriet shook her head, breaking out of the tangent she was on, and started the shower, letting the scalding water rush over her skin. Having to grow up taking short, cold showers, as the Dursleys didn't want her to waste hot water, she lingered in the hot showers of Hogwarts and Grimmauld, loving the warmth. While she liked fire better for pure heat, hot water was something she indulged in.

Finishing up after washing, she reluctantly stepped out of the shower. _That's something I haven't considered before: will there be hot showers where I'll end up? I'll probably just end up inventing them then if that's the case,_ she smirked to herself. _I could settle for a hot bath if that's the case._ Toweling off, she combed her hair to be presentable, though leaving some of it to partially cover her left eye as she liked it that way. She changed her eye color to green, put on her glasses, dressed herself and then came out of the bathroom.

"Harriet?" Harriet saw that Hermione was up and about, but was still in her nightgown. _Probably woke up a few minutes ago._ "I didn't expect you up so soon. Was your scar hurting again?"

Harriet repressed the urge to sigh at the slightly predictable question. _I do one thing different that would be normal for anyone else and they jump on me… though I admit that some of it is me just yanking their chains for fun._ "No, it wasn't," she replied truthfully. "I just woke up early and wanted to use the shower."

"I hope there's still some hot water left," Hermione half-seriously asked, now used to Harriet's shower preferences from steaming up the girl's showers in Gryffindor tower.

"Hermione, we are in a magical house. It doesn't have a water heater." _Probably because it was deemed 'too muggle' to have in the Black ancestral home. And if it does though, then it's charmed to always have renewable hot water. Seeing the look on Hermione's face though, it seems that she forgot that little fact._ She quirked a small smile at Hermione's expense. After a quiet "oh shut it," the bushy-haired girl walked into the bathroom next, shutting the door behind her.

Harriet's face slid into a blank look, now that she didn't have to feign emotion. _I have a few minutes; I think I'll write a letter._ She walked over to the desk and got out her pen (she didn't use quills and ink outside of school related things) and started writing. It was an idea she had to write parting letters to several key individuals she knew: to a few as her final instructions, and the rest as a final time to tell them where to shove it. Despite wanting to leave and have no contact or connections to this world, she couldn't help but raise further chaos that may or may not improve things. At the very least it would be amusing for some.

She quickly finished writing, as this was the easiest one to write and address, then sealed it in an envelope before hiding it in her drawer just as Hermione came out. Harriet used the motion of putting on socks to close the drawer so she wouldn't see the letter. There weren't any words spoken between the two and Harriet was content to let the silence continue. Aside from the brief interaction earlier, the two of them haven't gotten along like they had in the past, with their differences in opinions on certain things playing a part to that. Though on Hermione's end she was wavering in those opinions.

They went downstairs and saw that Mrs. Weasley had already set out breakfast for everyone in the house. There were only a few people there at the moment, Sirius being one of them as it was his house (though it didn't seem like it from the way others were ordering him around). Then there was Sturgis Podmore idly sipping a cup of tea and a biscuit, the lowlife Mundungus Fletcher who was using the table as his personal footrest despite his dirty boots, then there was Mrs. Weasley who was still busy making food. The other three people were the Weasley twins and Ginny.

"Morning everyone," Harriet opened pleasantly, and despite it being an innocent enough greeting, made everyone pause for a fraction of a second.

"Morning Harriet, Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley said with a bit more cheer than was needed. "Food's ready on the table dears. Eat up!"

"Thank you," Harriet said, giving a little bow of thanks before taking a seat and started to eat, but not before discreetly casting a charm to check for any sort of potions in the food. Something the false Moody instilled in her finally was 'constant vigilance,' especially since she did find potions in her food every once in a while. The charm she found didn't identify exactly what the potion was, but it identified what they were. Mainly loyalty and mild love potions, but she didn't know exactly whom they were keyed to since the spell wasn't exact.

She was an expert on very good educated guesses though.

Today there weren't any, but even if there were, she wouldn't react, mentally noting to take flushing potions after the meals, even if it meant a few uncomfortable minutes vomiting out what she just ate. In all honesty, the food Mrs. Weasley was good, even if occasionally poisoned.

There wasn't much talk as Sirius seemed half dead this morning, and the other people were either silent for their own reasons or whispering to each other (the twins). Harriet decided that she would be the one to open up talks while she ate. "It there anything we need to be aware of today?"

There was another pause in everyone's actions, but Mrs. Weasley overrode what Sirius was about to say. "Nothing important dear. There isn't any more cleaning to be done today so you'll have all day to wrap up your school work."

"Perfect," Harriet said, betraying none of the elation she felt. _And it is perfect. If it is just these two of the Order here, then I should be able to slip out with barely any effort. Hell, I might just walk out the front door. No, don't get too full of yourself yet Harriet,_ she chided herself, _you could still be stopped. I must tread carefully._

"I could look over what you've done… if you want," Hermione surprisingly offered, making Harriet slightly quirk an eyebrow.

"I appreciate the offer. But I want to test my own knowledge first before comparing answers with you, unlike somebody we know that just mooches off of your work," Harriet said, making a jibe at Ronald, the lazy bum he was.

"True that. Ron's an idiot," Ginny quipped from the other side of the table.

"Ginerva, don't talk about your brother like that!" Mrs. Weasley chastised sharply.

Ginny rolled her eyes but said, "Yes mum," though everyone knew there was no real force behind the words. Mrs. Weasley gave a glare to her only daughter before continuing to make food, not commenting on the falseness in Ginny's tone.

The Hogwarts students at the table shared a glance with each other, unified in one thing: that Ronald Weasley was a moocher and a layabout. During Harriet's first and second years when she made a token effort to be a friend to him, and by extension Hermione, he would never do any of the work himself, always asking for one of them to do it while he played chess or talked Quidditch with their male year mates… sometimes both. There had been many an occasion in the Gryffindor common room where both girls had shot down Ron when he asked for them to do his homework/copy theirs. Hermione was the more vocal, though the more entertaining was when Harriet did it. She made it an art.

 _Though the effort's wasted on an idiot like him,_ Harriet thought, just as the boy in question came tromping down the stairs. For some unfathomable reason, Ron kept trying to be her 'friend' though he ended up being more of a leech or parasite than anything else. Despite refusing and outright ridiculing him multiple times, his sulking would only last a month or two before he tried again, pretending nothing had happened and that it was really their fault for rejecting him- not the things that he did that caused them to do so.

It didn't help that she was constantly being pushed into situations with him. The Philosopher's stone, the Chamber of Secrets (since it was his sister that got taken), Scabbers as Wormtail. And somehow he took it upon himself to be completely disruptive when she got named as the fourth champion for that idiotic tournament.

 _I would like say that it was the Headmaster who managed to force us together so often, but I have to admit that would just be me projecting all of my grievances onto him. He's not_ that _all powerfully manipulative. The only saving grace is that Ron's held in distain by most of Gryffindor and the school as well, just at a lesser level since they don't have to deal with him trying to force his way into their lives._

It was a mystery to her why she, and Hermione too, felt the need to tolerate his presence. Harriet could admit it felt somewhat satisfying to belittle him, almost empowering. Same with Malfoy, for a time. But being stuck here in Grimmauld Place with him was grating on her impressive self-control.

Even more so when he sat down and started stuffing his face and trying to talk at the same time. _I think it's time to have a dignified withdrawal._ "I think I'm done at the moment," she said in a carefully crafted tone that said she meant the words to be polite, but also a thinly veiled snub of the company that arrived.

"I am too," Hermione also said, pushing what was left on her plate away and standing up with Harriet.

"I agree," Ginny said and made to stand up, but her mother took offence to that.

"Oh no you don't young lady, you still need to finish your meal," Mrs. Weasley shut her down. "Then there are a few chores that you have to do." As she went on, Harriet was amused at the face Ginny made, how her face was turning almost as red as her hair from the inner rage she felt, and how close she was to snapping back at her mother but just barely managing to hold it back. Before Ginny could snap, for a moment their eyes met, and through that look, Ginny was asking for help. Harriet gave her a sympathetic look through her eyes before they hardened. It was a silent message to Ginny: _deal with it for now, but find a time to strike back later._

Ginny didn't like it, Harriet could tell, but she gave the slightest of nods understanding before sighing in apparent defeat and forcing down some more food. Her backing down without a fight was a bit of a surprise for everyone else, since they were bracing for a bout of Weasley women tempers. Harriet took this time to exit the dinning room, with Hermione following apparently, as she heard footsteps trailing behind her. "That was rude of you," she immediately started when they were out of earshot.

Harriet rolled her eyes. "Oh please, I told the truth in a very polite way. And honestly tell me you weren't thinking the same thing." She smirked when she saw Hermione flounder with her mouth open and closing before she muttered, " _You're not wrong…_ "

Hermione recovered, "Anyway, are you sure you're fine? With everything that's happened this summer we're concern-"

"Hermione." The girl stopped at the almost frigid tone. "I've said it before, but I'll say it again since you seem to make me need to repeat myself. Voldemort," neither one flinched, since Harriet had been the one to break Hermione of that learned habit, " _has_ been making my scar hurt after his… restoration, but he's in no position to personally do anything after what I did to him. He _does_ have a body now and can order his posse around, but he hasn't discovered how to reverse what I did to him. There's a shrinking window of opportunity that the Order is squandering. It's only a matter of time before he's recovered. He's tenacious like that.

"And now getting back to the more personal part, _you_ were part of the cause of why this summer was so agonizing for me." _More than normal at any rate._ "Letters that have nothing but the barest minimum of information? Listening to a Headmaster that has no right to dictate my life? Thankfully you get that it was wrong, but that doesn't negate the fact that it happened, and you're still _s_ -mothering me," Harriet made sure to keep it sharp, to finally try and get it through Hermione's head, moving onto the final push that Hermione needed.

"I know, but… he's _Dumbledore_ …" Hermione protested, very weakly.

Harriet would've smiled but that would have tipped Hermione off. "And I'm Harriet Potter," she repressed a wince saying that, but started up the stairs to hide it. "There's also Voldemort, and Minister Fudge, and every other witch and wizard on this world that has a name. What's your point? Yes, Dumbledore is magically strong, but he should have no influence over you outside of Hogwarts save for what you give him. Some people in power have no right to be there.

"Let this be a lesson Hermione: others have as much power over you as you let them. If you're not prepared, they can steal the clothes off of you and make you a slave to their whims. But if you are aware… well then, that's when you can start to do something about it." Harriet was pleased to see Hermione speechless, thinking hard on what she said. _Maybe now she can see the truth._

Harriet started walking back up the stairs but was startled when Hermione asked a question. "Are you aware?"

This time, Harriet didn't bother to hide the smile. "A long time ago I came to that realization. But no one should reach the point that I did to see the truth. And I'll soon find a way to be free completely." With that cryptic remark, Harriet parted company with Hermione.

 _I took a risk there,_ she thought, _letting on as much as I did. But if I gambled correctly, then she won't tell anyone… well, until after I'm gone. As strong as we are, Dumbledore is still stronger and we're still in school. In time however, death will catch him and those that have a backbone will see that they have to function on their own without his 'guidance'._

 _Unless they are too far gone and drown themselves in their incompetence…_

Harriet went back to her room, confidant that Hermione wouldn't follow, and sat down at her desk. She started writing, continuing her letters. It took a bit longer than she expected, and was harder than she thought to write. There was a small pang in her chest at the understanding that she would never see them again, but ignored it. _If I stay here, then I will die, trapped in a game between the two Lords and their pawns. There's not enough time for me to learn all that I need to know, to gain the power to fight back. And aside from my closest associates, everyone would soon rather turn on me than help- or at least stand aside…_ She paused in her writing for a moment after that last phrase, and then chuckled a moment to herself. _I guess Voldemort and I_ are _too much alike._ Though her mood soured after that comparison and the significance behind it.

Grumbling a little bit, she quickly finished up the last letter and then addressed it. _Finished._ She pulled out her wand and did a complicates series of charms on the letters, then cast the duplication charm on each. Since she knew that Dumbledore would try and confiscate them, she made fake letters for him to take while the real ones with the critical messages she would hide. Arranging the duplicate letters on her desk so they would be easily seen, she kept one unduplicated, real letter in her robe pocket. She then put the rest of the real ones inside the desk and sealed it. _If Sirius was and is a Marauder, then he would figure out the hidden message in my letter for everyone._

 _Now to enact the first part._ She went over to her trunk and opened the first latch. She pulled out a medium sized satchel and a belt with several pouches of various sizes on it. She had been preparing this since a little after she got the idea to go to a different world and had been filling them with things that she would need in a new world to get her started. _Thank god for expansion and weightlessness charms_.

Setting those on her bed, she opened the second latch on the trunk. Reaching inside, she pulled out a medium sized vial, filled with a purple liquid that had floating specks of light in it. "Kreacher!" The old elf popped in.

"What can this old elf do for Mistress?" He asked, bowing.

"It's time. Once I add this," she gestured with the vial, "to something downstairs, most likely tea, I need you to deliver a cup to everyone in the house. Do this after I get Sirius away from the kitchen and distract Mrs. Weasley, because they will become suspicious _if_ they spot you." She made sure to stress the 'if' in case the elf would get insulted. "Once everyone is asleep, let me know, then bring me these items," she pointed to the satchel and pouch belt.

The elf grinned nastily, which wasn't a pretty sight. "I will, Mistress."

"Very good," Harriet dismissed the elf and pulled out a syringe that she had snatched. She made sure it was cleaned and sterilized before even touching the thing. Carefully she opened it up and filled it with some of the potion. Harriet then put the potion in her other pocket and the syringe up her sleeve under a band she had, making sure she wouldn't accidentally poke herself. _Because that would ruin everything,_ she dryly thought.

She walked out of her room and headed to another, where her first companion, Hedwig, was. The white owl gave a delighted hoot and flew over to Harriet's shoulder for another perch. Harriet gave a sad smile to the owl, hating herself for what was to come. "Hey there girl. Sorry it's been a few days but things have changed." Hoot. "Yes, I'm still going through with it." Hoot Hoo-hoot. "Yes, today. But there's two last things I want to ask of you. First," she brought out her letter, "can you deliver this to Neville Longbottom?" The owl bobbed her head in affirmative. "Great. After that, could you fly to Stonehenge and… and wait for me?"

There was another nod from the white owl and Harriet gave a small, sad smile. "Thank you… for everything Hedwig." She almost started to tear up when the avian rubbed her head against Harriet's cheek in a comforting way, but it was just another reminder for Harriet of what she was going to loose. "I'll see you soon girl."

Hedwig gave a small screech and then took off with her wings buffeting Harriet for a moment as she took off through the open window into the afternoon sunlight. Harriet watched until she could no longer see the white speck and took a deep breath and closed off whatever she was feeling.

"Focus girl," she told herself. "Here and now." Her back straightening, she went down to the kitchen. As expected, Mrs. Weasley was there, still working on food for the _next_ meal. Sturgis Podmore was there, but looked to be half asleep, probably bored with nothing to do in Grimmauld. _Easy work._

"Excuse me, Mrs. Weasley?" She said to get the woman's attention, making sure none of her excitement came through her voice.

Harriet's voice slightly startled the woman, while Podmore just cracked his eyes open a little wider before settling back into his chair. "Yes dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"Do you know where I could find Sirius? I want to talk to him about something," Harriet said, which was true, but not for the end game.

"I think he should be back in a moment dear, just wait a moment for him," she said almost dismissive of the man who's home she was staying in, regardless if the man liked it or not. Mrs. Weasley turned back to her cooking.

Harriet spied a large teapot on the side near where Molly was, still hot considering the steam coming from it. _Perfect_. Harriet made her way closer. Slipping her hands into her pocket, she fidgeted with the potion vial. "Mrs. Weasley?" When she got a questioning hum, she continued. "I feel that I need to apologize for comments made earlier today about Ronald." When the woman turned around and made eye-contact with Harriet, Harriet made sure to hold it before breaking first and went to the tea, pulling out two cups, before continuing.

"While my words were innocent by themselves, it was the underlying meaning, the way I said them that I must apologize for. They were spoken from a place of stress and exasperation. I make no excuse for what's been said save for that our personalities clash too often for both our tastes, which could leave lingering resentment. However, I offer an apology for my words," Harriet said, convincingly remorseful.

"Oh, don't worry about it dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she eveloped Harriet in a hug, causing the girl's eyes to widen in surprise and to stiffen unperceptively. It was not a hug she enjoyed. Too confining, smothering, and of the _wrong_ warmth, if that made sense. "I know what happens at school can seem serious but it builds the basis for lasting relationships in the long run."

 _Yeah, there are so many thing wrong with that sentence I don't want to start,_ Harriet thought to herself as she discreetly slipped her wand from her sleeve and aimed it at the simmering fire on the stove.

She'd always been good with fire spells, so it was a simple matter to wordlessly increase the fire on the stove a significant amount to divert Molly's attention. "Ach!" Molly exclaimed and released Harriet to put down the fire. Those few brief seconds were all she needed to discreetly pour herself a cup of tea then empty the potion into the rest before Molly turned around.

"Wow," Harriet commented dryly. "This old house is in bad condition."

"Oh don't worry about it, happens every so often," Mrs. Weasley tried to bluster through the unexpected flare up, secretly concerned about the enchantments on the stove failing.

"Anyway, let's have some of the tea you made. You work hard enough as it is," Harriet said, pouring a second cup with the potioned tea, offering it to Mrs. Weasley.

"Thank you darling," Molly said and generously took the tea. The two of them simultaneously sipped at their tea. Glancing over, Harriet got another cup ready and went over to the other man in the kitchen.

"Mr. Podmore? Here, have some tea. You look like you could use some."

"Oh, thank you Ms. Potter," the man said as he took the cup and sipped some of it, not noticing Harriet's eyes glittering with victory.

"Anyway, I'll wait for Sirius outside," Harriet said as she put down her tea cup and walked out, waiting for the man in question. It was only a moment later when Sirius appeared.

"Pup?" He blinked slightly in surprise. "What's on your mind?" He asked as he noticed her expression.

"Can we talk somewhere privately?"

"Of course," Sirius said, and led them back to the ancestry tapestry room. She took a brief glance at it, using this to mask a motion where she slipped the syringe into her sleeve before turning her attention back to Sirius. "So, what's up?" He asked, looking into her eyes.

Harriet opened her mouth, but nothing came out. A rare occurrence for her. She tried again and this time got results. "I just wanted to know how things are for you," she started her prepared speech. "How has Dumbledore not arranged a trial for you yet?" She made sure to sound exasperated.

Sirius sighed. "You know that he can't do that. He's been stripped of everything except the Headmastery, and even that is on the line with the way the Ministry's cocking things up."

Harriet fixed Sirius with a blank stare. "Do you honestly believe that? That _Dumbledore_ , of all people, doesn't have the ability to manage things anymore? And excluding this year, what about the past one, or the summer after my third year? Couldn't he have done anything then?"

Sirius opened and closed his mouth twice before he said, "Dumbledore's a busy man… or was more so in the past anyway," he amended. "He couldn't find an opportunity to bring it up and there are other families that would prefer me to remain a fugitive."

"Bullocks to that," Harriet bluntly said. "You're the last direct descendent of the House of Black. Regardless of how the House's fallen, the name Black still carries weight: just ask nearly anyone in the ministry." _I know because I've brought it up before when I was there._

Sirius' emotions started changing, slowly building up his irritation. "I really could care less what happens to the House. Everyone except me was rotten to the core."

"But you could change that!" Harriet tried one more time to get Sirius to see reason and continue the magics of House Black. "Demand a trial, a real trial, and damn anyone that tries to stop you. Make things how you want to shape them. Reforge your House how you want it without spitting on its history. Make it so I won't have to worry about you being hunted, so I could live with you and away from the Dursleys." She was being completely honest right then. She wanted a reason to stay. Maybe just one reason to try and make things work, a reason to just stay a little longer.

Sirius sighed and with that, Harriet knew her path was set. "Look Pup, it just can't happen. I can't do anything right now, Dumbledore can't do anything. But things will get better, we just have to keep doing what we are doing, and believe that things will be alright."

 _And right there is why I can't stay. I_ don't _believe things will be alright the way it's going. In fact it will get worse if things continue; if people keep hiding from the truth, and thinking that somebody else will bail them out like last time. But the cycle continues, and there won't be any change until annihilation._

She sighed as well. "I'm sorry. I'm just so frustrated with everything now."

Sirius smiled sadly, but comfortingly, and opened up his arms. "C'mere."

Slowly, Harriet stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Sirius, feeling and smelling him for the last time. She felt his hands wrap around her and, at that moment, she felt comforted… wanted. The last time she felt this was when Sirius hugged her when she first came here to his house. Some part of her didn't want to let go. Something was making her chest hurt and warm at the same time.

 _If I don't do it now then I'll never be able to._

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her right hand came up and with a flick the syringe in her sleeve was free. Before he could react in any way she reached up and poked the needle in his neck, pressing down, injecting the mystic purple fluid in him.

Harriet felt him tense up and gasp, but she held him tighter even more. "I'm sorry," she repeated, "but this is the only way I'll be free," she whispered into his ear. Once everything had been injected, she released him and he stumbled back, the sleeping potion already taking affect as he struggled to stay awake and upright.

"Harriet?" He asked, holding his neck, his eyelids drooping.

She looked into his eyes, seeing the question, "why" in them. She closed her own and took in a deep breath. She forced down whatever emotion she was feeling. It was far harder than she thought, harder than anything else. But she let the satisfaction slip back in at her plan working, overriding her regret. She opened her eyes, making sure that they were her natural color behind her glasses. Sirius sucked in a breath in surprise.

"As Dumbledore would say, 'This is for the Greater Good.' _My_ greater good. Goodbye Sirius." Sirius tried to reach out to her, but his eyes drooped and he fell.

She smirked as she watched him crumple to the ground. _Such is the fate of the easily deceived; and as what as Pettigrew and Dumbledore did to you, I have done as well. Though to be fair to Sirius, he did survive twelve years in Azkaban without loosing most of his mind, so some credit is due. However he's become duller with time._

Ignoring the collapsed mess that was her Godfather, Harriet made her way back to the entranceway, tossing his letter onto his body for him to read later.

A moment later, Kreacher popped in front of her. "Everyone's asleep Mistress," he informed her with a bow, and then handed over her bags.

"Good. If everything goes according to plan, then I'll be long gone before they can find me. You've done well Kreacher. Continue to serve the best interests of House Black as you've always done."

"I live to serve House Black," Kreacher said with a bow, then popped away.

Harriet put on the bags and gave one last rueful look around before the expression turned dismissive. "Good riddance to bad rubbish." She went to the fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. There was one more place she needed to go, one last loose end to seal before leaving. She needed to go to Gringotts.

"The Leakey Cauldron!" The powder fell and in a flash of green flame, Harriet was gone.

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 **So that's that. I'm not 100% behind this chapter just for the sole reason of so much backstory, but it needed to be done. It gets it out of the way and I'll try to avoid big info dumps like that in the future (but no promises). Next time will be Gringotts, and then the ritual itself! (Duh-duh Duhhhhhhh!)**

 **So for the fun shipping stuff. I wasn't going to make a big deal out of it, and originally it was just to see what people might think; however, it exploded and thou hast spoketh. So, there's a running poll I'll do. I'll post the results every once in a while, and nothing will be decided until it actually happens (I personally have an idea for who I want to ship, but I'll hold off!) So here you go!**

 **CinderxNeo: 6**  
 **CinderxJaune: 2**  
 **CinderxWinter: 3**  
 **CinderxSalem: 3 (TBH, this one didn't even cross my mind and pleasantly surprised me)**  
 **CinderxRuby: 8**  
 **CinderxPyrrha: 1**  
 **CinderxEmerald: 2**  
 **CinderxGlynda: 1**  
 **CinderxBlake: 1**  
 **CinderxRaven: 1**  
 **and a CinderxSummer vote?... yeah, not happening since as far as we know she's been long dead before Cinder arrives (slight spoiler), but hey, it was different and I like that.**

 **Once again, the shipping isn't a plot point (right now) and will take second, maybe third place in priority, so don't really worry. But keep sending me your thoughts and I'll keep tallying them up to see which ship sinks or floats. And you can suggest multiple ships- though just a note I'm not going to do a multi-pairing, just one and one, though there will be flirting probably.**

 **Alright, this was going to be uploaded Thursday where I live (California) but I guess it's still Thursday somewhere. In honor of the old RWBY Thursdays, when the episodes were released on those days.**

 **Read, Review, Favorite, Follow!**

 **-OrangeGalen**


	3. Gringotts

**Hello everyone and welcome back to another chapter of Rise. I got a lot of feedback on this and I am definitely continuing this story!**

 **There's a little bit of an explanation for this chapter. This is unfortunately an obligatory 'Harriet goes to Gringotts' chapter that _thousands_ of other stories have done, and as much as I tried, it ended up being too big so it had to be its own chapter, to my minor displeasure. HOWEVER! Because I consider this a 'part 1 of 2' chapter, Chapter 4 will be coming out by the end of the day. **

**Whaaaaaat? Two chapters in a day? Yep. Believe it.**

 **But before then, here's Chapter 3! Enjoy!**

 ** _There's some important notes at the bottom about review voting for pairings._**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or Harry Potter.**

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 **Latest Edit: October 31, 2018: Grammar and clean up of inconsistencies, general writing standard improved.**

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The inside of the Leakey Cauldron was the same as Harriet remembered once she stepped out of the green fire and brushed off the ashes. The same musty pub atmosphere and dark look, Tom the barkeeper still serving people, many patrons inside. On the surface everything appeared normal with business as usual.

It was what was lying underneath that Harriet could sense.

There was a different air now. People were reading newspapers that had sensationalizing headlines and articles, journalism unchecked by laws and unsupported by facts, near propaganda- actually no, it _was_ propaganda- spewed by the Minister and by extension Voldemort's supporters, at least in part considering there were so many working in that institution. In the quiet mutterings she could hear, there was fierce debate over these articles; if they were true or how much so, that it was all rubbish the Daily Prophet was spewing or that it was their Bible they swore by. All ends of the spectrum.

But even that was all a farce, for under all that was uncertainty, and under that, was _fear_. Even the dimmest denizens of the Wizarding world could feel that something was unfolding. Times were changing and people knew it, they just didn't know in what way. And that made them uncertain, afraid.

Harriet could see all of this as she lifted the hood on her robe over her head and avoided eye contact as she walked through the pub. She knew what was happening behind the scenes so she was more informed than the people here, so observing all of this was easy.

However, she was in a public space and she didn't want to get busted so soon. Not before she finished her business at Gringotts anyway. With her sudden arrival, despite it being a common occurrence for someone to floo in, the probability that she would be recognized -even with the hood concealing her face- was high. It wouldn't be hard especially since her face was plastered on several articles, amusedly saying she was dangerous for calling out the Minister and his lackeys on their bullshit and corruption.

So, she slipped her hand into her robe pocket and picked out a Galleon, then flicked it high into the air over to the bar table, making sure to get the noticeable ring sound. The golden 'shiny' light combined with the fact that it was a new moving object would draw every human eye to the coin in the air. And while those people watched its trajectory, they wouldn't be watching her, as she would make her way to the alley. Misdirection at its finest in its simplicity.

 _And, like a true badass, I didn't even stop to look to see it work_ , Harriet thought smugly to herself as she heard a small scramble for the coin and some curious muttering of who she was as the door closed behind her. _Though that would have been against the purpose of the distraction. All they would know is that someone, a young woman came through the floo before they were distracted, and that she put her hood up. Not much any side could use._

She pulled out her wand and tapped it against the brick wall, though not in any pattern like Hagrid showed her all those years ago, as she admittedly forgot it. Though she figured it was just for show. During the Tournament she came to the realization that, while incantations and wand movements helped greatly, spells and magic boiled down to willpower, intent, and… well, _power_. _It's silly that witches and wizards needed to tap a pattern every time they wanted to get in this way. Very inconvenient. Though no one could accuse most of them of forward thinking._

With her wand, she willed the wall to open. Brick by brick, the wall split apart into an entrance, revealing Diagon Alley in its glory. Harriet took a step in and hesitated, then shook her head. _Even though I've been here multiple times and have become disillusioned with the Magical world, Diagon Alley still amazes me. Alright, focus again._ She started walking, making sure to set a leisurely, but purposeful path to the Goblin bank, and to keep her head down to overly not draw attention, blending in with the other magicals there.

It was a paradox in the fact that the more you want to _not_ be noticed, the more you _were_ , and vice-versa. Aside from the fact that her wand had the Trace on it and the Ministry would be alerted to any spells it used outside of wards that blocked the Trace, casting a Notice-Me-Not charm would not divert attention from the people she wanted to avoid -and would in fact draw their attention for that very reason: because it meant that person had something to hide and they should investigate. Since they had been trained to notice when magic is used, it left them shortsighted to the obvious non-magical ways to avoid detection.

 _Though if Moody were here, or rather someone had his… unique eye, then it would be a very short thing,_ Harriet mused as she walked. It was getting closer to sunset as she saw the white building in front of her. Thankfully she was unaccosted and stepped into the bank with a respectful nod to the Goblin guard outside.

She showed no outward sign of her amusement when the Goblin stared at her, first with a surprised expression, then a calculating one. _Binns is a terrible teacher, but he does make it a point to emphasize the viciousness of the Goblin Rebellions, as bland as it's presented. The Ministry has in their complacency cemented Goblins as mere sub-human bankers beneath their notice, forgetting so easily that they are a warrior species. And with the way things are progressing, wizards will soon have an unpleasant reminder of that fact. As for the Goblin's side, I can only presume that they are getting tired of Wizards' attitude of supposed superiority._

Inside, the Bank hadn't changed and Harriet made her way to one of the open tellers. The Goblin, Searskin, according to the nameplate, was working on a piece of parchment and seemingly didn't notice her in front of him, continuing to work. That all changed when Harriet placed three Galleons on his desk. A clawed hand swiftly swiped them and the Goblin looked up. "How can I help you?" He asked, the words not in a sneer like so many other time to other wizards.

 _Just because they are warriors doesn't mean they don't understand that money talks,_ Harriet thought. "I need to speak with my family's account manager at his earliest convenience."

"And which family would that be?" The Goblin asked, semi-politely.

"The Potter family."

The Goblin sucked in a breath and asked, "Proof of identity?"

"Scar, key, wand, blood. Take your pick," Harriet said as she revealed her scar and wand, then her key next. The Goblin took the wand and key and checked them, using magical means that Harriet didn't know. _Either my magical education hasn't covered this or it's more Goblin secrets._

Seemingly satisfied, the Goblin put a 'Closed' sign on top of his desk and hopped off the chair. "Follow me," he said, without looking back. Harriet did so, making sure to keep her confidant, but not arrogant, posture while walking. It would draw the attention of the Goblins that she showed no fear, and they would better respect her for it.

She kept her eyes pealed as they walked down rows and rows of offices and other Goblin rooms, until Searskin stopped at a door that read 'Ironfist'. He rapped his fist on the door several times and then shouted something in Gobbledygook, to which there was a reply from inside. "Ironfist awaits you," Searskin said, gesturing to the door.

Harriet gave a small bow. "Thank you for your time Searskin," she said, once again feeling pleased when the Goblin reacted with surprise again. The Goblin gave a grunt and walked away, leaving Harriet at the door. She idly noticed there were two handles at different heights. _Probably one for humans and the other for fellow Goblins._ She gave a small frown however when she felt a prick on her hand as she grasped the higher door handle.

She opened the door. Inside there was another Goblin, this one looking older than the previous one… or just more wrinkled. Humans were hard enough to guess their ages, just trying to get the decade right, let alone trying to guess for a completely different species. The Goblin was sitting at his desk, long, clawed finders steepled in front of him, his beady eyes staring at her.

Recalling the prick she felt, she looked at her hand just in time to see a small puncture wound heal over, as if a needle had poked her. She looked up, her emerald eyes narrowing. "The last time I had blood taken from me unwillingly it was used in a dark ritual. I do hope there is an explanation for this, with a guarantee any blood taken will be destroyed immediately," she said clearly.

The Goblin waved her concern off. "Just a further precaution to confirm who you really are. The blood sample is sterilized after the check, making it useless for anyone, save extra work for the cleaners."

Harriet was more assured now, but had two questions. "First, you have _cleaners_? And second, what if someone isn't who they say they are, what happens then? As a… personal curiosity."

The Goblin smiled, which reminded Harriet of the Basilisk's fangs when it was trying to eat her, just not as large. "Those who can't pay off their debts when they are called in are forced to work it off in Gringotts… for two knuts an hour. And those that don't pass are _dealt_ with," the tone leaving little room for interpretation.

"Painfully I hope," Harriet added with a hungry grin.

If possible, the Goblin's smile became more vicious than before. "Extremely."

"Hmm, good," Harriet almost purred. Then she got to business, moving into the single chair there, taking off her satchel and putting it next to her. "Now, pleasantries aside, I am working on a rather tight timeframe and I don't want to impose longer than necessary."

"Very well, what can I do for you today, Miss Potter?" Ironfist asked, shifting to a business tone.

"I plan on leaving the Wizarding world… permanently." Harriet bluntly stated, leaving out the fact that it wasn't _just_ the Wizarding world. "However, money in any form speaks, and a good amount with me would be a cushion to support myself until I find stable ground. So, as with my position as Heir of the House and last of my line, I would like to get an overview of the Potter vaults, then withdraw the entirety of my trust vault and indefinitely seal any other vaults the Potters hold so no one can access them. In particular the Ministry in any form and Albus Dumbledore."

Ironfist stared at her for several calculating seconds. Harriet waited patently, not feeling any sort of nervousness at being stared down by the Goblin. Finally the Goblin spoke. "If it were anybody else other than you I would have you thrown out of Gringotts for your impertinence. But considering your unique situation, and that you name Albus Dumbledore as someone you don't want touching your vaults, since _you_ are here, I wont. There are some issues that should have been sorted out years ago. Gringotts has been getting short-changed in this, and we don't like that."

Harriet narrowed her eyes at that. "I never had a good opportunity to visit Gringotts for an extended period since I was… unaware until recently that I was being kept in the dark about my finances and my movements watched. I assume there's much long overdue paperwork, but time is money and I have a lack of either."

"Indeed. I'll put it bluntly: we've had no correspondence from you to say otherwise, so Albus Dumbledore has used his authority as your self-proclaimed Magical Guardian to gain control over House Potter's investments and minor vaults, such as your Trust vault and the Evans' vault. Further considering your ignorance, he probably diverted our bank statements to himself." Iron fist pulled out a parchment and slid it to her. It showed that there were five sub-vaults she could access (four of which were empty), and the main Potter vault, which had 4,531,922 Galleons, plus artifacts and other items.

 _That's… a_ lot _of money… more than I've ever thought I would see or be mine… but it used to be more,_ Harriet noted after she got over her shock, when she saw the highest the vault used to be over two decades ago at 9 million, and higher before _that_.

"Before their unfortunate deaths, the Potters consolidated their holdings into the main vault, leaving it untouchable save for their decendants. However, because of mismanagement, dubious circumstances, and having no word from the direct Potter line to maintain their investments, the Potter revenue has decreased drastically, mainly with several profitable companies having been bought out and then promptly closed or the Potter shares sold. Also during of the war, several businesses were destroyed and haven't been rebuilt, continuing the decline of funds to the Potter vault, something that Gringotts finds distasteful. And Albus Dumbledore hasn't helped matters.

"While he was and is unable to withdraw directly from the main Potter vault, your Trust fund has been emptied every year from 1982 to 1991 because of a loophole that we have been unable to close because of Ministry restrictions -interestingly enough, enacted in early 1982 with heavy endorsement from the Chief Warlock. I believe you know who that was, as the Ministry has made some recent changes in leadership."

Harriet's eyes narrowed and she fought to control her rage. "How much was stolen and do you know where it's gone?"

"Close to 500,000 Galleons, more than 55,000 a year," Ironfist totaled to Harriet's raised eyebrows. "Your trust vault holds a maximum of 13,750 Galleons at a time and is refilled every four months, which were routinely emptied until May 1st, 1991. The only way Dumbledore could take anything is if the payments were written off for your education, upraising, or under the Continuing Payment Trend law."

"I'm not familiar with that particular law," Harriet asked, personally invested in knowing as it was her money being stolen through this law.

"Basically, under the CTP, if a person or family officially has a contract with and regularly donates to a group or cause, and if another amount greater than the minimum wasn't donated that same month, then a transfer is made automatically to a specified minimum amount, unless both parties, free of magical influence, agree to a change in amount or the donator files a termination slip, ending support. The law was made to prevent Wizards under potions or compulsions by their rivals to withdraw payments that could hinder their goals."

 _So it's like a glorified membership fee,_ Harriet thought, _except for special interest groups._

"So every transfer from your vault _has_ been made legally," Ironfist continued, moving on from the description of the law, "though your kind would consider it… morally ambiguous." The disgust was evident in his voice. "Gringotts sees it though as it really is: stealing from the ignorant or those that can't retaliate. We've kept track of the funds, and the amounts have been divided consistently over those years. Each year, 15,000 has gone to the Hogwarts Trust fund, established to help those less financially stable and fund projects in the school, written as future education expenditures for you. However once it's in the fund, technically any Hogwarts staff could withdraw from it. That's 135,000 total.

"Then 25,000 a year, totaling 225,000, has been donated to a vault under the name of 'Phoenix Light', which is a front for a vigilante group called-"

"I know the group in question… quite well," Harriet interrupted Ironfist's listings. "But back to the previous usage of my money, I know that my tuition is costly, but the amount seems… excessive." _And with the amount available, it seems weird that McGonagall and Madame Hooch are always complaining about not having enough money to buy new brooms._

"You would be correct. Your parents paid for your Tuition in full shortly after when you were born, which makes the transfers unnecessary. All above board unfortunately, so nothing can be done about it on our end," Ironfist interrupted as well, clarifying a misconception she had.

The armrest of the chair that Harriet was sitting in creaked under her hand, the wood protesting, and she needed a moment to collect herself. _I suppose that's how they got me the Nimbus 2000, using my own money to disguise it as a gift. But I've checked and a 2000, when it came out, cost G1,755. So where did the rest of the money go?_ "I see," she frostily said. "So how was the money given to 'Phoenix Light'? I assume money was given because of that Continued Payments law?" _Truly a pathetic name for both really._

"Yes, the Potters donated a not-insignificant part of their vaults during the previous war, though the amounts varied and then reverted to the minimum specified amount during the months leading to October, 1982. But no termination slip was filed, hence how the funds could be 'donated' till 1991. Thanks to a loophole however, because Dumbledore was originally the recipient of the money and _then_ became the holder of the Potter vaults, he could technically donate to himself, but only from your Trust vault as the other vaults were empty or closed to him." Harriet started seething from the outright corruption evident in the Ministries' laws, and how the coot used them hypocritically. _Of course, he probably wrote many of those laws for his own plans._

"Another 120,000 was put into a separate vault for a 'bride price'-" Ironfist paused when her chair gave a loud crack and smoke rose from under Harriet's hands. A sudden pulse of magically powered rage flashed through her and her vice-grip on the chair tightened, causing the wood to fracture and turn it to charcoal in the exact shape of her grip.

There was a pause, where Harriet took a violent breath in through her nose and then let it out slowly. She looked up at the Goblin's now wary face and saw that he was blurry. _My eyes must have reverted back to normal,_ she calmly thought over the red haze. Not caring about appearances she took off her glasses and then crushed them in her hand, barely feeling a few shards of glass break her skin. The ruin in her hand smoldered before she dropped it to the ground in a partially melted jumble.

Unknown to her, a tracking spell that was on her glasses was broken with their destruction.

"Bride price?" She asked in a whisper, barely keeping in the fury she felt, tiny flickers of flames escaping her fists. "As in a marriage contract?"

To his credit, due to her unintentional intimidation, Ironfist only stuttered once. "Y-yes, arranged by Albus Dumbledore and Molly Weasley for you to one Ronald Bilius Weasley, to be enacted upon his seventieth birthday."

There was a silence, then the Goblin almost called security because he felt worried for his life when Harriet started laughing. A dark, maniacal laughter. The barest hint of humor was present, mainly because the absurdity of it briefly overtook the fury she felt, but it was filled with loathing. "I would've brutally killed the pathetic slug before the 'marriage' could have even been arranged. I would've turned him to ashes if he tried to lay a hand on me." _Everyone would see it coming. All of Hogwarts knows I despise him, and not even the tough-love, arguing couple excuse could be given. There are only three people who think it would work between us._

"However!" Ironfist said loudly to calm her, though it was also as likely he didn't want his furniture damaged further. "It's not legitimate. Magic recognizes that Sirius Black is your true guardian, despite whatever parchment says that Dumbledore is, and hasn't signed the contract. Additionally, because of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and your recent trial, you're technically a legal adult and as such can personally invalidate it." He pulled out a piece of parchment that had a lot of technical marriage jargon, but had two signatures at the bottom. "Further, because you are the last living heir of a Most Ancient and Noble House, there are some protections offered that allow you to invalidate the contract."

"You have my complete attention. What need I do?"

Ironfist grinned, fangs glinting in the light. "Merely tear apart the contract. With the official Gringotts contract gone, the same one can't be filed which prevents anything on our end. Though something on your Ministries' end could be arranged, and a notice of the contracts' destruction will be sent out from Gringotts to all parties involved… unless something can be settled," Ironfist said, not even trying to hide the other meaning behind his last words.

Harriet took the contract and crumpled it, then concentrated on her magic, calling upon her fire. The parchment started to smolder, then caught aflame and rapidly burned to embers that blinked out before they hit the carpeted floor under her. Harriet felt slightly smug at Ironfist's surprised reaction to her destructive wandless magic. "That won't be necessary. I plan on leaving this world so anything they do after today has no concern for me."

Ironfist recovered quickly. "Ah yes, your 'plan'. While we Goblins consider Wizards arrogant and imbecilic, Albus Dumbledore is almost as crafty as one of the People. And, if your claims are indeed not those of a 'attention seeking, delusional child,' which," he said reluctantly for some reason, "many in the Nation think to be false, then the self-proclaimed Lord Voldemort won't let you escape willingly."

"I _know_ their power outstrips mine," Harriet said while giving him a deliberate stare, holding back the _'for now'_ she wanted to add. "I know their intelligence is only matched by their egos. And I intend to play on that. Both are set in their ways and expect people to react in certain ways, and it would be inconceivable to… well, maybe only Dumbledore," she corrected upon introspection. "He's more traditional than Voldemort. Anyway, it wouldn't be in their top ten thoughts of what I am going to do. That's how I'll escape, to play on their inflexibility. The only thing that can stop me is time."

The Goblin grunted and shrugged. "Far be it for me to try and talk a human down from doing something. If you want to kill yourself during a ritual, fine."

Harriet merely hummed, not wanting to correct him nor challenge the assumption she would be doing a ritual (which she was). "We got off track quite a bit. There's still another 20,000 Galleons that wasn't accounted for."

Ironfist grunted again. "The last value were transferred to a muggle bank and converted into Pounds to a 'Vernon Dursley'. The reason was compensation for providing care to you."

 _Care that I never received,_ Harriet thought darkly. _With the amount of money the Dursleys got from just having me inside their house almost makes it worth going back and taking care of them. But no, time is of the essence now._ "I can vouch that I got the bare minimum a human needs to survive from them, nowhere near twenty thousand Galleons worth. Is there any action that could be taken against them?"

Ironfist thought for a moment. "The only think that comes to mind is to alert the muggle bank of embezzlement or tax evasion and have them do an audit, and maybe the police of _child neglect_." Those last two words came out in a growl. _Apparently the Goblins take a dim view of child neglect._

"Good. If any of those paths succeeds then the Goblin Nation can take 25,000 Galleons from the main Potter vault as compensation. And if the police arrest them, an extra 5,000 for every charge that sticks. Now," Harriet changed gears, "previously you said I was a legal adult. Does that mean I can claim the House Lord or Ladyship at this point?"

"Unfortunately not. While you may be legally an adult, by magic 17 is still the age at which one can claim the Head-of-House ring," Ironfist explained.

"Hmm. A pity, but not unexpected." She paused, though she had her doubts because the Goblet of Fire, a _magical_ construct, chose her to compete in a tournament for _adults_. But that was neither here-nor-there, as she didn't have all the details about the Goblet… and Harriet really didn't care that much if she got the Potter ring or not.

However, the willingness of the Goblins to at least help her (for a price) was better than any treatment she got from the adult side of the Wizarding community. It… had an impact on her; that a group of non-wizards talked with her about problems and told her what had happened, rather than dance around the subject, struck a chord with her. It made her think over some things that could be changed. _Yes… yes that will work. If everything goes right then that will work marvelously._

"Heiress Potter?" Ironfist said after a while when Harriet drifted off.

Harriet shook her head. _Time to see if this can't work out for the better. Let's see if I can't influence the Goblin Nation._ "My apologies. I was preoccupied with my thoughts… I originally came to just retrieve my gold and seal my accounts," she started, "but… I see a new opportunity for the Nation. Because the Goblin Nation seems willing to help me more than any part of the Wizarding community has, as such I feel the need to return the favor. There is a war coming, Mr. Ironfist. Some could say it's a continuation of the first one, and it could seal the end of the British Wizarding community if the wrong forces win. And despite any feelings you may have, it will affect both our species."

Ironfist puffed up, feeling he and his Nation were being insulted by this, admittedly powerful for her age Witch. "The People have thrived for thousands of years and have done so since before the first blocks of your pyramids were placed. One pathetic pissing contest between wizards won't destroy us."

Harriet smiled, seemingly genuine in that emotion. "At least there are still some warriors among the sheep," she said almost to herself, thinking of a few of her associates, "though they are frighteningly sparse.

"No," she continued firmly, "they may not be able to destroy you in conflict, but when they choose to destroy themselves through ignorance, magic in Britain will be crippled. As much as both species try to deny it, we are intertwined by magic and society. If one falls, more likely the Wizard side since most now are incapable of adapting to the changing times, like dominos the others will be dragged with it, affecting the whole world. The Nation may not take a side in _this_ conflict, but when the dust settles there will be three results." Seeing she had Ironfist's undivided attention she continued.

"If the Ministry wins, which is the least likely outcome for hopefully obvious reasons, then that will lead to a complete stagnation of wizarding society. Money will be lost with the lack of innovation- hoarded by politicians and already wealthy families investing in the same things, never changing. But more importantly, Magic will suffer from the strangling regulations and banning the Ministry puts on it, getting weaker and weaker. Already certain brands of magic have been lost that could've done a lot of good for them, but in their ignorance and knee-jerk reactions, those magics have been all but lost. And the treatment of magical non-humans will grow worse, and if largely forgotten history is accurate, the People eventually lash out, leading to more war and further desolation.

"Now if Voldemort wins, despite all that talk of blood purity and equality for the outcasts such as vampires, trolls, Giants, werewolves, etc., he doesn't care about them. Only for himself. His promises are worth nothing and he _will_ try to destroy the Goblin nation after he wins, and the outcome will be uncertain. Voldemort has sheer power on his side, and while the Nation will decimate his ranks, Voldemort has proven he has methods for his survival and will keep returning. That conflict will destroy both societies with genocide. And if one goes, the other will follow in time, the balance destroyed. Magic will wither, eventually spreading like a plague to the rest of the world." Harriet was pleased that she had Ironfist's attention, and he seemed to be considering her words seriously.

"But if the 'Light', i.e. Dumbledore, wins," Harriet continued, "then it would be a… benevolent suppression, catered for our 'Greater Good', to borrow Grindlewald's catch phrase. Wizards are sheep, Dumbledore is a shepherd, and he'll lead them off a cliff with them willingly jumping off. It would be the polar opposite of Voldemort's reign, but alike in its totalitarianism. I have a feeling that this version of that 'Greater Good' phrase only applies to Dumbledore's good. Anything that doesn't fit Albus Dumbledore's vision will be suppressed or destroyed. If what happened to me is any indication, when he gets what he wants all free thought will be snuffed. It'll be the same result as if the Ministry wins, just disguised as for all our benefits."

"Those are all nice theories, but that's all they are," Ironfist sneered, though he seemed to be thinking behind his mask of aloofness. "The Nation will thrive regardless of any outcome. It's all conjecture. And if you've put so much thought into this, why don't _you_ do something about it?" He challenged.

"Who says I haven't?" Harriet countered, but then said. "And even if you disregard my theories, no one in their right state of mind can deny change is coming and would be fools to ignore ways to come out on top," she said with a pointed look. To her relief, the Goblin calmed down and seemed even more introspective.

"Regardless," she continued, "I know I'm outmatched and outnumbered since all three factions have it out for me right now, with not enough time for me to rise to their level. And as much fun it would be to see what happens when they clash, I'd rather not- for my own health. It would… be better in the long term if I weren't here, rather than try to ride the storm. Many human magicals in Britain have forgotten how to think for themselves and are content on being told what to think, letting anybody else take care of the problem. And if the Ministry gets their heads out of their collective arses, whom do you think they'll come to, begging to be saved? I'll constantly be wondering: which side wants to kill me now? Which side will deliberately place me in harms way? Which side wants to-… well, I was about to say 'control me', but all of them want to, to an extent. I owe them _nothing_. When I'm gone and they realize that their world is collapsing, they won't have a convenient scapegoat to hide behind or throw at the problem, " Harriet hissed.

"But… if things go in the direction I hope, then there may be a fourth faction that will rise soon and save Magic and all magicals, made up of the true outcasts of society. The only problem is that the faction hasn't formed yet. It won't be this year, or maybe the next, but it _will_ come. And it is my advice to the Nation to seek out that new faction when they announce themselves, as they will be more… open to change and compassion between all sentient species." _Considering Hermione and her thing about House-Elves, it's a must. Thankfully I managed to get it through her head that they_ need _to be bound to witches and wizards and shifted her focus on improving their condition. Distasteful as the metaphor is, a happy slave is one that would willingly work for their owners. Look at Dobby and his… enthusiasm, or even Kreacher_ _once I got to him._

Ironfist was silent for a long while, and Harriet let him take his time. Finally he spoke. "I will convey your message to the Hierarchs. I make no guarantees as to the results… but… for all your flowery language you make several legitimate points."

"All I ask is for the Nation to consider it," Harriet gave an acknowledging nod. "You're right, look at me talk. Let's get back to business, shall we?"

"Indeed."

"I am still going to seal my vaults after my withdrawal, but I'm adding a few caveats. As of right now I have control over all Potter vaults, even if I'm not the Lord or Lady?" She asked to clarify. When Ironfist nodded in the affirmative, Harriet continued. "Then I want a new vault opened under my name with 500,000 Galleons from the Potter vault, and restrict access to everybody save one Hermione Jean Granger and one Ginevra Molly Weasley. However, _when_ Voldemort eventually reveals himself to the public, I want a letter sent only to Hermione alerting her of the vault's existence, but include Ginevra as if it were also addressed to her. Her family doesn't share the same views as her and would try to prevent her from having any knowledge of the vault, plus it would tip Dumbledore off. When they come to access the vault, they have to be free of mind altering potions or spells in addition to the normal identification tests."

Harriet waited for Ironfist to write down what she was saying. "It will be done. Now, is there anything else?"

"No. Save for my first two orders of sealing the vaults and withdrawing from my trust vault. I want the money to be placed in this," she handed over one of her bag pouches that had a featherweight and bottomless charm on it. "Although," Harriet reconsidered, "once the trust vault is emptied, withdraw from the Potter vault until there is an even 50,000 Galleons, then seal the vaults. A thousand Galleons to Gringotts should make sure this gets done with expediency."

"Very well," Ironfist said and pulled a cord behind him, then picked up a mouthpiece. There was a bark in Gobbledygook from a receiver like the old style phones, and Ironfist gave his commands into the mouthpiece. "Your bag," he asked. Harriet gave it to him and he slid it down a chute. There was an affirmative sound from the other end and then Ironfist hung up. "Your money will be taken care of momentarily and I'll have the paperwork drawn up for sealing your vaults. I must warn you though, after you attempt your plan, the Ministry will try to claim your vaults. And if you die they will be able to do so."

"I don't plan to die," Harriet said firmly. "Those vaults _will_ remain sealed."

"If you say so," Ironfist said neutrally, although Harriet could detect a bit of understandable doubt in his tone.

Harriet nodded, and said, "May your gold always prosper and your enemies tremble at your feet."

"And may your prospects be lucrative and your foe's blood run fresh," Ironfist finished the Goblin adage.

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 **Alright, how'd I do with this? Believe me, this chapter feels like a spiritual 'cut-and-paste' from any other HP fan fiction. But it's mine and I put my own twist on it. The Goblins aren't just going to bend over backwards for Harriet like they do in so many other stories, I promise you. I have a plan so trust me.**

 **The next chapter will be out by the end of the day!**

 ** _-Now onto the important part about reviews._**  
 **I made a mistake. I admit it. I turned into a minor review whore by asking for your thoughts on pairings, mainly because I truly wanted your input on them, but there _was_ a little bit of just wanting reviews -it was minor, but still there. But... a while ago I was inundated with nameless 'guest' reviews for a certain pairing, all written like "I vote Harriet/Cinderx[blank]" and maybe five extra words after that; and while I like guest reviews (for the most part) the way they were written led me to believe they were all from the same person, 'rigging' the votes in a pairing's favor. I don't know if that is true or not, but that's what I was made to think. **

**_-So, sorry everyone, but the review voting is closed. So a poll on my homepage has been opened instead!  
_** **All of your review votes will still be counted (with the 'guest' reviews mentioned above as 1 combined), and any votes on the poll will be added to the total count as well, which I personally am keeping track of. So if you already 'voted', vote again on the poll. And if you haven't voted yet, vote on the poll. It's that easy!**

 **-This was done to not clog the Reviews and my inbox with these types of reviews. If you truly feel passionate about a pairing and want to leave a review, you may do so, but use multiple complete grammatically correct sentences please! (No trump sentences). I'm sorry but this was my fault as much as it was others, and if problems continue then I'll scrap the pairing voting altogether.** **  
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 **Sorry for the long note but it had to be said. Once again, the next chapter is the one you've been waiting for, the Ritual! So see you in a couple hours!**

 **R.R.F.F.**

 **-OrangeGalen**


	4. Ritual

**I said it would come out and it did! So here's Chapter 4 and some actual plot and actions, rather than just business talk. I think this is the most Cinder-esque Harriet sounds so far. Obviously that will change as she grows. And I have sad news for some of you for what happens in this chapter... well, you'll find out.**

 **Anyway, here's Chapter 4!**

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 **Discalimer: I do not own RWBY or Harry Potter.**

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 **Edit: 8/22/17 -Clean up & minor changes. **

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A short while later, her business at Gringotts was completed. The Potter vaults were sealed, she was carrying 50,000 gold Galleons on her ( _thank you magic for weightless and expansion charms_ ), and future financial aid for her proxy faction should they get established. _All that they need to do is motivate themselves to get the change they need. They need to take the first step on that path, I've led them that far. Money can only help so much._

 _But for the Goblins, it was an impulse decision to ask them to support my proxy group, and I don't expect them to do anything outside of what they've already done. I… may have revealed my hand a bit too soon and tipped things in a way they would not have gone,_ Harriet thought as she walked through the lobby, feeling a little bit of regret and concern. _History texts and books about Goblins tell that the People have a sense of honor but normally, unless it directly affects the Nation, they won't act. And as things are now, with this information they may decide to act against the wizarding world as a whole, to eliminate the problem once and for all, regardless of my warnings. Not that it concerns me, but it is rather disappointing that after all this time a culture will be wiped out, and I would rather that Magic survives since it's been the only thing that's helped me though life… And I guess some of my schoolmates I would like to see live too,_ she had the afterthought. _Or at least prefer them to live._

 _But until certain mindsets are broken, right now the Wizarding society and The Nation are not compatible for cooperation. It was a Hail-Mary idea that they could work together to begin with._

Putting those thoughts aside she stepped out into the twilight of Diagon Alley. The sun had just gone down and the sky was barely lit up with pink from the sun's rays. _It's time._ As soon as she cleared the bank's steps she saw a couple of wizards and witches head towards her from the Alley, and she recognized them all from the Order of the Phoenix. And in particular, one white-bearded old man.

 _How'd they find me? Did someone see me enter or in the lobby?... No, that couldn't have been it. There… must be some sort of tracking charm on me. That's concerning, and annoying since I'll have to take care of that first before going to Stonehenge._

 _There's only one place that I can go without the Ministry being alerted that I'm using spells or the Order immediately catching me. It's a risk being that close to Hogwarts, but it's the last thing they'll expect. The closer I am to danger the further I am from harm. At least in this case._

She focused and held her wand idly. She had only done this three times before, the first was accidental magic, the second was focusing really hard to escape, the third was more of a test than anything. Harriet had read all about it during her time in the Black library to compare with her own experience, and now she was confidant she could do it correctly according to the book. _Destination, Deliberation, Determination. I can do it. I've done it before. It's easy._

She pictured the environment, and while it had been covered in snow the last time she and been there, it still was the same place. The empty area, the wide-open space, and the run down shack barely hanging together as it was. She could see it. Now she willed herself to appear there, to travel there in a split second.

She gave a little turn, and with a loud crack, let her magic take care of the rest.

Harriet seemed to recall how uncomfortable it was to Apparate, and now that she was paying attention to it, it was even more so. It was as if she was being squished into a straw that was attached to a blender, trying to pull you apart forcefully, but there was an equal force preventing you from scattering into pieces. Uncomfortable was a slight understatement actually, considering the first time she used it, not knowing the proper name for it.

As she stumbled upon reverting back into the normal world, far away from where she was, Harriet wondered, _Is it because of the way wizards were taught it that it's difficult and far more uncomfortable? Something to think about later._

Golden eyes looked up to the ramshackle house that was in front of her: the Shrieking Shack. Far enough away that if the people had a tracking charm on her it would take them a while to pinpoint her location. But by the time they did that she planed to be back South again at Stonehenge.

She stepped into the ruin and went to the bottom floor, finding the hidden tunnel that would lead to the Whomping Willow, to Hogwarts. However she didn't need to go to the castle, just inside the ward lines so that the Trace wouldn't be activated. Much like Grimmauld Place, Hogwarts had numerous wards to protect the castle and the grounds around it, since it was a castle and could stand against a siege. She saw part of its power when the school locked down after Sirius broke in two years ago… another lovely Halloween for her at the time.

 _It stands to reason that Hogwarts has wards that block the Trace, since it is a school where we use Magic, otherwise we would be getting letters all the time. One point of common sense to the Wizarding world,_ Harriet thought to herself as she made her way down the tunnel, with merely a Lumos spell to light her way.

An interesting piece of trivia was that the Lumos spell didn't trigger the Trace for some reason or another. It was excluded from the tracked spells so any person who had the Trace on their wand could use it _without_ being dinged -although they would be if they used it around Non-magical people. Harriet had accidentally discovered that tidbit in her Third year when trying to do Summer work at Privet Drive with the lights off. She had wondered if there were other spells that were like that but ultimately decided not to try her luck and put it out of mind.

It was only a minute or two later that she felt a little electric tingle in the back of her neck. _That was the ward line_ , she recognized. Yet another thing she discovered at the end of her Third year was that she could sense wards: the more powerful they were the easier it was. It was an interesting skill since it corresponded with her growing magical power as the stronger she got, the easier it became to sense the wards; though she couldn't tell what they did, only that they were there. And it wasn't foolproof, as skillfully erected wards could be hidden.

At the beginning of this summer, she realized the Dursleys had carefully hidden wards around their house. They used to be stronger, but had faded to a mere shadow of their former strength. _Another tally on the 'Reasons I don't like Dumbledore' list._

 _Time to check myself._ Raising her wand, she conjured a full-body glass mirror in front of her with but a thought and then muttered, "Incantato Revelio," while dragging her wand through the air from her head to her feet. The variation of the 'Revelio' spell would make anything cast on her that wasn't a self-casted spell to glow. The purpose of the mirror was to see the glow, since it was normally cast on someone else so the other person could see it.

Harriet looked at the mirror and was surprised when nothing came back. _No glowing clothes or skin, nothing. Not even in my satchel._ She turned slightly to see her back. _Still nothing. Curious. Did somebody actually get a glimpse of me, either going into the bank or inside of it?… There's no time to ponder it further, since Stonehenge awaits. This side-trip was necessary, but also just wasted time because I could've done it at Grimmauld instead. I simply didn't think of checking myself then._ Slightly annoyed with herself, she shoved the mirror with a little more force than needed, letting it crash and shatter loudly upon the ground, shards going everywhere.

Harriet made the return trip out of the tunnel and was about to step outside when she heard the distinctive sound of someone apparating in. _No, not now!_ Quickly calming herself she pictured Stonehenge in her mind, the giant stones that created one of the few magically powerful upper-tier sites. Then she pictured going there, traveling the distance in a split second and made the apparition jump.

Her world quickly turned into the spinning, disorienting, discomforting, and disconcerting feeling of apparition before it spat her out, once again making her stumble. Regaining her balance, she looked around her for any sign of life.

"Hoot!"

Looking up, two pairs of golden eyes met each other, and Harriet let a melancholic smile come across her face. "Hey girl." Hedwig glided down from a stone and landed on her shoulder. "How was Neville?" Hedwig gave a positive hoot and Harriet smiled before frowning, thinking.

 _I must've triggered a ward going into that tunnel and someone came to investigate. My potential timetable got immensely shorter, but I don't think they saw me or could get a tracking charm on me before I Apparated… but I'll be done before they can stop me._ "Ready to do this?" Harriet asked her dear owl.

"Hoot." Hedwig replied with a hoot and a head bob.

"Good. It's… not going to be pleasant, but it'll work. I promise. Now, give me some room and let me know if anybody comes," Harriet said, petting Hedwig's head. The Snowy owl gave another affirmative hoot and flew up to the stone she was on before. Harriet took off her satchel and placed it on the ground, then pulled out her silver potions knife and made a mark in the ground. _Now, sixteen steps away is the other side._ She took sixteen carefully measured steps in front of her and then put a marker there, then double-checked that it ended up being the same back _. Good, it is._

Now that she had the first two, she repeated this but perpendicularly of the first to get a cross. Then she carefully started cutting into the ground with her knife to make a circle to make the boundary of the ritual line. Once that was done, she repeated it four more times to make four complete rings, four inches apart. Inside the rings, Harriet made four more double lined ones, one in the center of it all and then three in a triangle around it.

It was a curious thing. Arithmancy deemed that the number 3 was a powerful number, and it was. It's one of the most stable numbers as it can support the most amount of power (but not complexity, that was the number 7) without breaking down; anything less would either not to anything, or would be completely devastating as many spell-makers and ritual creators had found out. Most rituals that Harriet focused on naturally called for things of three: whether its sacrifices, power, sources, casters, etcetera. And before her revisions to make this particular ritual work, it called for things of three.

However… during her calculations and re-writings of this ritual, all her numbers kept coming up as four. Four circles inside four rings that had four different sets of runes in each ring, four items, then the month divided in half was four, and the number of steps she measured at the beginning and even the current date had square roots of four. Everything about her calculations defied the natural teachings of Arithmancy just by coming up with 4 instead of 3.

Harriet considered herself -while not genius level, and sometimes on the Hermione level in terms of raw knowledge- a prodigy when it came to magic. She would've had the second highest score in Arithmancy if she were actually taking the class; just below Hermione only because she did _too much_ work, something that Professor Vector disliked but had to mark it as extra credit.

So Harriet was confident that there was something about this ritual that magically called –or demanded- the use of four. And with that, she had worked on it to get to this point. Something that magicals got right but now overly take for granted is if it looks and appears to be a thing, then it is. But as a critique of society, they're now taking Magic _itself_ for granted and not prying anymore, finding new things with it and sticking to the old.

 _Alright, now time to make the runes._ Harriet could already feel a tingle of magic. It was faint, but as she continued, she could feel it growing as well, responding to the inert ritual being prepared. Crouching on the ground, she started carving the first four sets of runes into the outermost circle at the four cardinal directions: North, South, East, and West. This was the second most difficult part, as she needed to remember and carve sixteen different and difficult runes into the dirt from memory. But she knew she could do it.

In the first ring, the Eastern rune was a protection rune, and in the West was a shield rune. These were to let most magic flow into the ritual, powering it, and also so that –once started- the ritual couldn't be stopped, protecting it from outside influence. On the Southern end was the rune of doors, as her ritual would open a 'door' to another world. Lastly in the North there was the rune of knowledge, signifying that she understood what she was doing and she could proceed.

The second circle had the runes of power and control to the North and South respectively -the power rune from Norse runes and control rune from one of the American Tribes. Those two would gather the immense power of the ley-lines to fuel the ritual to its entirety, aside from the personal sources. To the East was the rune of opening, to open that 'door'. To the West was the rune of creation, signaling that she was going to create a new life for herself through this ritual.

By the third circle, Harriet was starting to feel the burn in her legs, since she couldn't touch the runes or the circle with her bare flesh, only with the knife, and each rune took some time to make. But she remained undaunted and focused as she inscribed the last rune of this ring. The third circle had the Celtic rune for the world to the East, then an inverted one to the West. As the sun travels in that direction, so would Harriet travel from this world to the next. North was the rune of freedom, freedom from this world. South was destruction, for the destruction of her old life to start anew.

 _Now for the last circle… but first,_ "Hedwig, c'mere please!" _Don't want to leave her out of the ritual circle,_ Harriet thought as her owl landed on her shoulder. "Try not to mess me up okay?" She said jokingly to her, who replied with an indignant 'hoot'.

The tingle of magic had grown, the buildup now noticeable as a palpable feeling in the air. It was as if she was trying to move through something thicker than air, but not as much as water. She could feel the power and she had to start exercising control as to not revel in it. _There's still work to do._

She carved the rune of motion, of movement, in the dirt to the North, to help her move to this new world and out of the old. To the West was the rune of traveling, which was self-explanatory for her uses. The South had a rune signifying identity, of herself. Then to the East was the rune of choice, that she was choosing to utilize this ritual, that it was her choice to do so. That she wanted to do this.

When she finished carving that last rune, there was one last component to this segment of the ritual. She held up the silver knife to her hand and, bracing herself slightly, slit her palm. She didn't wince as the blade cut her skin, letting her blood start to pool out. Harriet clenched her fist and let the blood seep out, while letting a few drops fall onto each ring.

As her blood fell and hit the earth, the lines and runes started glowing a fiery red and orange, barely containing the magic that truly started to flood into it. She could feel a slight vibration in the earth, a pulsing of magical life energy, matching each drop that splattered her runic circles, ramping up with every consecutive circle.

 _Well, if the sensors at the Ministry weren't set off, they sure would be now,_ Harriet thought to herself. With her blood work finished for the moment, she cast a healing spell on her hand, and then tapped her wand in the rings, pulsing her own magic. There was a bright flash of orange, then the runes started to stream magic out of them, forming several thin translucent walls of fire for each of the rings, illuminating Stonehenge in a nearly demonic color. Harriet looked at this, enthralled for a moment, then focused and went back to work.

She went to the three circles forming a triangle around the center one inside the ritual ring and carved a rune of sacrifice in the center of each of them.

 _Now comes the hard part…_ she realized, with more emotion and reluctance than she expected. All magic comes with a price, and with ritualistic magic, that price can be severe. But with this ritual, it required the sacrifice of three significant things for her. It couldn't be anyday items that were hers; they needed to be items that were a part of this world, that signify her connection to it. By sacrificing them she would free herself of the earthly tethers of this world, letting herself drift, and be able to leave with nothing holding her back.

She grabbed her satchel and went to the first circle. Harriet pulled out a thick but deceptively light book and placed it in the circle. It was the photo album that Hagrid gave her at the end of her first year. The reason she was using it was because it held the only pictures she had of her parents, and her first time seeing them outside of dangerous enchanted objects or near-death experiences. Seeing their faces in those photos made her realize that she indeed had tangible evidence that, at one point, there were parents who loved her. And now she was going to sacrifice this link of her parents, something that until recently made her realize she wanted to know everything about them, for some part of her still cared.

She let go of the book and cast aside these feelings. Even as it felt part of her was being removed.

Harriet moved to the second circle and pulled out a shimmering silvery cloak that seemed to want to phase out of existence. The invisibility cloak from her father; the only true relic from her parents, and another link to them and this world. It had gotten her out of trouble (that she got herself into mostly) and it was one of her most treasured possessions. It was a connection to the Potter family, of her lineage that stretched back for over a thousand years. Every Potter at some point had possessed this cloak, going back before the Potter name existed. And less than four years ago it ended up in her hands.

And now she was going to destroy it and its associative history. She placed the cloak into the circle, and she could feel magic reacting chaotically, as if several different chords of magic were trying to merge but were too different to get along. It was no problem though as her ritual would be strong enough to overcome the warring magics.

Two of the circles were filled… there was just one more… the hardest.

 _Steel yourself Harriet. You_ must _do this. You will not survive if you don't… she'll understand, right?_ Harriet could only tell herself this. "Hedwig?" She held out her arm and the snowy owl fluttered onto it, Harriet ignored the talons digging slightly into her arm. "It's… almost time… for me to go. But this ritual is only for _me_. Do… you understand?"

There was a pause as Harriet stared into her thinking owl's eyes before Hedwig gave an agreeing hoot, though there was a tinge of uncertainty in it.

"I… I…" Harriet swallowed, fighting past the emotion she was feeling, the despair of what she had to do. "I need three sacrifices Hedwig. I can't take you with me but I can't leave you here in their hands! They almost starved you the last time!" Harriet remembered the fury she felt upon discovering that. Hedwig had traveled to Grimmauld place one time with a letter and never returned. It wasn't until she arrived that she found Hedwig there, very thin because _Ronald_ forgot to feed her since he was given the job. Hedwig regained her figure soon after but Harriet made Ronald afraid of her for a week before he, in his demented logic, decided that he was forgiven. Needless to say he was not.

Hedwig vividly remembered as she gave an angry screech, which made Harriet make some 'shushing' noises in comfort and stroked her head. "It's alright. I won't let you go into their care. But… I'll be gone when this ritual works and I don't trust anyone to take care of you after last time…" Harriet took in a shaky breath, eyes glistening with tears.

"And the ritual… calls for three sacrifices that will sever my bonds with this world. Three things that I care about the most… and… and…" _I'm about to… do this with my longest… friend? Yeah, friend._ "You've been there, you were my first friend… ever. I would've gone down a darker path I don't want to go now if I didn't have you then. I need you to understand what I have to do," Harriet pleaded to her silent companion. "I… I need to sacrifice you. Please, you know how bad it will be here. I can't stay here. I…"

Tears started pouring out and Harriet let out a sob, holding Hedwig close to her. "I didn't want it to be this way. But… it is." Harriet pulled back after a moment and looked Hedwig in the eyes, looking for anything, any sign. A blank stare greeted her and her breath hitched, her lungs freezing in dread as the once friendly eyes had turned to show nothing. Wetness dribbled down her face, unrepressed. "Please…"

Even the hum of magic seemed to still, awaiting this one owl's answer, an answer that could change the fate of two worlds.

"Hoot."

Harriet gave a sob when Hedwig slowly bobbed her head up and down. A yes. Harriet was crying again, knowing that her plan was going to succeed, but only by damning her first friend. She held Hedwig closer and sobbed over and over, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." White feathered wings came around her head, Hedwig giving her own hug of forgiveness.

Harriet didn't want it to end, but she knew she had too. Reluctantly, the two separated and Harriet looked into Hedwig's eyes. "I'll miss you. I'll miss you." Hedwig gave a sad 'hoot' and another nod. Harriet slowly grabbed the knife from where it fell on the ground and steadied her hand. "I'll… I'll make this quick… goodbye."

Her mind went blank and for that split second of control, before her emotions would overcome her and force her to drop the knife, Harriet jerked upwards. The point easily slid through the white feathers and directly into Hedwig's heart. There was a short screech of pain, and then the white owl slumped off her arm, lifeless, no longer as pure white as her feathers were now stained red.

Robotically, Harriet gathered Hedwig's fragile body and placed her into the last circle. "I'm… so sorry," she whispered. _Damn the Ministry. Damn Voldemort! Damn Dumbledore! Damn it all! Damn them all for forcing me to do this! Damn myself…_

There were a series of cracks that startled her, then there was a booming voice. "HALT! CEASE YOUR ILLEGAL ACTIVITIES IMMEDIATELY, DROP YOUR WAND, AND PREPARE TO BE TAKEN INTO MINISTRY CUSTODY!"

A fury took over her; a cold fury that burned through her veins, but was controlled by her mind. An inner fire roared to be let loose and Harriet had the reigns to tell it where to unleash the hellfire. And it would be unleashed upon those that had come to her at her most vulnerable.

And like a wounded animal, that's when she would lash out the most.

Harriet turned and from the glow of her ritual saw a group of ten robed Aurors in a crescent line towards the edge of the stone circle. She fought her snarl as to not appear like a feral animal and only partially successful as her lips pealed back slightly and were twitching, showing her white teeth. She needed to do more than vent. She needed to attack, lash back at them, to hurt them as much as she could in poisonous spite.

 _How dare they come now! They had to come just now, not before and not after, now? It's their fault that they're going to get burned!_

"Ah, Aurors. I was wondering when you were going to show up," Harriet said, stalking closer to the ritual boundary, letting them see her face. They obviously recognized her as, after a moment, they gasped nearly in unison, with some of them muttering 'Potter!' "A bit later than you should've, but I guess the Auror department isn't up to standards… Then again, the Ministry is trying very hard to increase its current level of incompetence now, isn't it?" She put all of her venom into her condescending mocking, her rage becoming more controllable as she decided to hurt them all with words, nearly snarling at them.

One of the Aurors seemed to shake themselves out of their stupor and shouted, "Harriet Potter! Stand down and cease your dark ritual! It seems the Minister was right about you!" He said, seemingly pleased with his deductions.

Harriet ignored him for she saw a familiar face in the crowd, and reacted with mock glee and surprise. "Oh, is that Nymphadora Tonks I see there? How nice of you to come. Tell me, is anyone from the Bird Crew coming soon? Perhaps the Old Goat himself will make an appearance? I wonder if the rest of your co-workers know where your true loyalties lie, that you're passing information to someone that the Ministry deems… delusional and power hungry? Well, from a certain point of view they're right about their claims."

Tonks stepped forward, her hair changing colors rapidly with her warring emotions, ignoring the few concerned looks thrown her way because of Harriet's comments. "Harriet? What is this? Why are you conducting a dark ritual? Why did you do that to everyone at HQ?"

Harriet smiled, which was not at all pleasant to see. "Oh, so the flaming birds woke up and squawked then? Not at all surprising. You lot can't do anything without Dumbledore holding your hand, considering how he's poisoned your minds."

The Auror that had addressed her shouted, "Enough! Get her!" Most of the Aurors shook themselves out of their surprise and started casting spells at her. However, the glowing ritual lines flared up and absorbed every spell they cast, rippling like fiery water as they impacted upon the barrier. After a moment they stopped and saw that nothing had changed. The Auror spoke to his badge, "This is Auror Dwalish: we need backup and curse-breakers. Subject Potter is protected by a runic shield we can't penetrate."

He then looked up and sneered. "You won't get away with this Potter!"

Harriet hummed and put a finger up to her chin. "Now that seems familiar… where have I heard that before? Could it have been from the Malfoys? Yes, but it just doesn't have the right _bite_ , y'know? Ah, then it must've been from Voldemort after he resurrected himself and I crippled him before escaping." She was pleased when all of the Aurors (including Tonks) shivered at his name, but rolled her eyes anyway. "Oh please. In any case, I have a ritual to complete and then I'll get out of your hair. You'll never have to see me again, how does that sound?"

"Harriet please!" Tonks tried again. "Don't do this! Come back and the Headmaster will take care of everything."

Harriet couldn't stop herself from hissing, nearly slipping into Parseltongue. "Like how he took care of me for ten years at my Muggle Aunt's where I was abused after I was dropped on their doorstep in the middle of the night? Like how he took care of me when I was falsely claimed to be the Heir unleashing a creature on Hogwarts? Or how about when he didn't lift a finger to get me out of a tournament that could've killed me? No, I think not. And the sad thing is that's just _some_ of the things he hasn't done."

There was another crack and Harriet's eyes widened in surprise before they glittered in malicious delight. "Ah the old man of the hour: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she said as the Headmaster stepped forward, followed by several other members of the Order apparating in. He looked surprised and beyond worried when their eyes met, fiery gold meeting blue.

"Harriet," he said, over the growing crackle of magic, "what is the meaning of this? Stooping to dangerous dark rituals? Embracing the dark arts? Stop this and come with me at once! Don't go down this dark path, my girl."

"Careful Albus, I am not 'your girl' and never was," Harriet chided. "And it was _you_ Headmaster, that forced me down this path. I realized what you were planning to do with me; I was never intended to survive this war, instead becoming a martyr so you could audaciously gain control over the wizarding world. Stealing from my vaults, preventing my Godfather from getting a trial, the list goes on. You're on the same level as Voldemort. I'm not your sacrifice, old man. I won't fall for you or your cause. I'm leaving this world, escaping both your and Voldemort's grasps forever, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Harriet you don't understand! There's more at stake than you know! Everything I've done was for the greater good!" Dumbledore pleaded with her.

Harriet's eyes widened slightly in surprise upon hearing that phrase, and that the assumed paragon of the Light, would use it when it originated from one of the worst Dark Lords in recent history. "Well then, it's a shame you never bothered to tell me any of it. I might have stayed around and twisted them for my amusement." Harriet mocked, fiery eyes gleaming at the Headmaster's horrified blue. "Oh yes, I am as dark as you feared!" She declared. "So, tell me, how does it feel knowing all of your time and careful effort manipulating my life will be for naught? That I, your sacrifice, will slip from your grasp before your plans come to fruition? I wish I could watch you burn after I'm gone."

Ignoring whatever he, or the other Aurors said after, she stepped back and got into the innermost circle, a cruel smile on her face at their reactions. She could feel the spells resume, but just like before they fizzled out upon hitting the barrier.

She reached into her side pouch and brought out a drawstring bag. Reverently, she opened it and turned it on its end, letting a small red crystalline shard fall into her hand. This… this was something that she never relinquished, never left unprotected, never left her person longer than necessary.

This was a shard of the Philosophers' Stone. A piece of the artifact that, when whole, could make the Elixir of Life.

She had kept it since first year, since the battle with Quirrlemort in the Third Floor corridor. As the Mirror of Erised was also shattered in the battle, so to was the stone when a deflected spell struck it. Before Dumbledore drove off Voldemort's spirit and Harriet passed out, she tucked a shard that landed near her into her pocket on an impulse. It was pure luck that it wasn't discovered, and she had kept it a secret, letting Dumbledore spout that it was for the best the stone was destroyed, claiming that with it's sundering, the Stone held no power. But with her tinkering, she had found that the shard still possessed magical energy. And with it, a way to do mimic something along the lines of the Elixir's potential.

This was her assurance that her ritual would work. In her readings it was said that the Wizards who attempted this were killed in the backlash or implied to have died because their bodies couldn't survive the trek. And the one that did come back was injured severely. So Harriet planned everything better: more magical power, more control, more detail of where she was going, a clear idea of what she was attempting, and determination to succeed. But there was just one additional bit of insurance that she had that others didn't, and that was the ruby shard in her hand.

While she couldn't make the Elixir without the full stone –not that she didn't desire to do so- she _could_ draw upon the latent magic inside the shard, pulling it inside of her to add extra temporary healing to have her body survive the journey. Or at least that's what she thought it would do. Her ace in the hole for the ritual, so to speak.

Harriet closed her eyes and clenched the shard into her hand, letting its sharp edges cut into her hand and making her bleed over it, the reds mixing. Then she willed her magic to pull on the stone, to drain it of its power. Obviously it resisted, wanting to retain the power it was imbued with, but her will was stronger than a fragment of its potential and slowly the ruby glow dimmed.

Her body never felt better. As the last of the shard's power was drained, her wound sealed by itself, her body's healing multiplied exponentially. She could feel it working inside her, clearing everything that didn't belong. _This is it. This is what I needed. I will do this._

Harriet knelt and put her wand into the center of her personal ring and started chanting, the final part of the ritual. The language was not of this earth, and she had to learn enough of it from scratch to make this ritual work based on the decaying remains of positively _ancient_ texts that hinted at inter-world travel. Large parts were missing, but the language was thankfully translatable with the help of other not _as_ ancient texts. With careful reading, she understood she wasn't trying to summon a demon or do something else. It was difficult, but she knew she had got the words right when even in practice magic itself hummed.

And now…. Magic _sung_.

"Üir té sil yolvec gernill deges Mé unaus bu ahmé. Iac lilé ciel nàil o jervn unas gerni lil ir a hes lanar, sa iac æurenill. Mahje fliqu I ciel Mahje fultmèn I az Mé kmir iac jenuen sa neves lanar, ciel xalun ir palésa a hes yür üir iacthän." ***1**

It was more of a poetic religious blessing in a language no longer spoken on this world, asking Magic itself to aid her, but it worked as a massive wave of magic pulsed out of the ring, knocking everyone that wasn't Harriet onto their backs several feet from where they were before.

The sacrifices smoldered and burst into flame, Harriet determinedly looking away from the circle Hedwig used to be in. The offerings were noted and accepted as adequate, some more so than others. The runes controlled and directed the wild magic according to the wishes of the caster. Everything was going as planned. She could feel it.

The ground under her started to shift and change. Pulsing fiery white around a circle of blackness spread out from under her, with few strands of blood red. The ritual lines flared higher and brighter than before, causing the area to look like a bonfire had been lit. Harriet could feel a tugging on every part of her body, as if there were a slow portkey attached to her and not just her nose. It was trying to pull her somewhere. And she let it, throwing her arms out wide, embracing the magic, the power.

Unknown to Harriet, the three sacrifices were enough, but due to the nature and arithmancy of the ritual, it yearned for a fourth offering. The Wizard that partially succeeded before used some form of rejuvenation magic, realizing the same thing that Harriet did: that the journey would strain the body. He used three sacrifices, but they weren't meaningful enough and they extracted the rest of the cost on the man's body, and then his soul. That's why when he returned, with the help of a different ritual by his companions, his body and soul were irreversibly damaged from the first ritual.

If nothing else had been affected, Harriet would've traveled to another world, but it would've been much harder on her body and soul, possibly leading to problems for her in the future. As it stood now, there wouldn't be any such difficulties.

The ritual accepted the three sacrifices and would've taken some of her energy as part of a fourth -since all magic comes with a price- but before the ritual did so, it paused as it sensed something.

A shard of a soul, located in Harriet's scar.

With this shard being sheared from its full portion, it had fulfilled the condition of separating its bonds from this world. And because it was a _soul_ , no matter how small or corrupted, it was precious and the ritual eagerly took it as further payment, Harriet unknowingly offering it. And in return for this, the travel would be easier on her.

The witch in question felt magic eagerly roar around and enclose her in a bubble. It had surrounded her so she could no longer see anything but the manifestation of the color black and red. But then she felt a sharp burning coming from her forehead, as if someone was digging parts of her skull out from that point. It was excruciating, more so than the Cruciatus Curse or when the Basilisk venom coursed through her veins before it was neutralized by Fawkes' –however grudgingly given- tears. Unseen by her, or anyone else, her lightning bolt scar split open and a black tar-like substance oozed out which was greedily sucked up by the ritual's capsule she was in.

Harriet couldn't tell if something else was screaming or it was her.

There was one final blast of magic and Harriet became nothing, blinking out of this world's existence.

The magical backlash in Stonehenge caused all electronics to fail in a ten-mile radius from the stone structures and practically every magic detection alarm in the Ministry to scream. The stones themselves grinded as the force pushed them a miniscule amount, shifting ever so slightly. The ritual inscriptions were utterly wiped out from the blast, eliminating anyone from copying them and doing something with them later.

The collected witches and wizards outside the lines were thrown away like dolls, and when a white bearded old wizard eventually worked himself off the ground to stand up and look back, there was no sign of Harriet Potter, only wisps of smoke and fumes that lazily floated upwards into the night sky, trailing off into nothing.

Harriet Potter would never return to the world of her birth.

And if she did…

Well… then the world would bleed and burn.

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 ***1 Translation:** _For it is through traveling that I shall be free. My soul and body of fire will travel on to a new world, with my blessing. Magic guide me and Magic defend me as I break my bonds with this world and I leave to make a new life for myself._

* * *

 **Yep. Hedwig died, the Invisibility Cloak was destroyed, and the soul piece in her scar is gone as well. A lot of things happened but I do have a plan, you'll just have to wait and see. Also, there's a reference to RWBY V4 Ch8 with some of the Runes. Might want to go back and look ;)**

 **The next chapter will be the aftermath of her leaving and takes place in Britian with multiple P.O.V's. The chapter after that will return to our favorite pyro. But you'll have to wait a bit for that since I'll shift my focus on other stories now (and college is starting back up :(**

 **Anyway, thank you all for your support, we're now at 300 Favorites! (probably more now) Thank you so much!**

 **Don't forget to Read, Review, Favorite, Follow, and Vote! (R.R.F.F.V)**  
 **Until next time**

 **-OrangeGalen**


	5. Letters and Reactions

**Hello everyone! This is OrangeGalen and I'm finally back to writing again! Yay!**

 **That being said, I deeply, deeply apologize for how damn long this took. I didn't intend for this to take so long, but there's a whole list at the bottom for why if you're interested. To summarize, finals took a toll on me, Volume 4 introduced a lot of new things, my summer was busy, and I lost motivation for various reasons. But, I'm back and I think I have my mojo running again! So hopefully this won't take more than half a year to update again!**

 **Now onto some more lighter things. The poll has been going on long enough, and I think it's time to declare a winner. Totaling a majority of the votes at 44% with 112+ votes (with the next highest being 14% with 37...) is going to be a FallingPetals/RubyxCinder pairing! This is a delight to me because this is actually what I wanted the pairing to be. Not to say I wouldn't have done other pairings, but this is what I preferred. Just a note it'll be a long time before we get to that pairing, since we have to have Harriet's backstory in Remnant.**

 **At the bottom is going to be an extensive Author's Note (about 2,000+ words long), detailing several of my thought processes of writing this chapter, and clarifying several things that may be confusing for some. You don't have to read, but down there I try to explain myself and the chapter.**

 **Also, it's been confirmed that our little cherub Ruby's birthday is October 31st! So Happy Birthday Ruby! And a Happy Halloween to everyone else today!  
Of course later on, it'll be interesting how Harriet/Cinder's luck with October 31st will interact with Ruby's birthday... **

**I've rambled enough, now onwards to the chapter! (Actual length about 14,000+ words excluding AN's)**

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 **Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or Harry Potter.**

 **10/31: Quick shout out to rickyp01 for catching a grammatical error!**

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It took a minute for Albus Dumbledore to pick himself off of the ground after the magical blast. But after he did, he quickly rushed forward to where Harriet last was, unconcerned of how his elaborate robes were dirtied and singed. However, to his dismay and horror, he stilled when all he saw were wisps of smoke rising from the ground. Harriet Potter was gone, and in one of the worst ways possible: through a ritual –inherently dark magic.

 _Oh Harriet, how could you stoop to such dark magic? And a ritual of all things? How did you learn to do so?_ Dumbledore lamented in his mind as he calmed, gazing at the remnants of Harriet's last disgraceful action on this world. Rituals had been banned for a reason in England, and most of their Eurpoean neighbors have also followed their example (save for a few unenlightened countries), seeing the inherent dangers rituals entail. He was in shock at the events that just transpired so he couldn't think things through at the moment, nor react when there were more Apparation cracks behind him.

"What's going on here?" That familiar voice brought Dumbledore out of his stupor, refraining from wincing when he recognized whom that voice belonged to. He turned and saw Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. There were a few other Aurors that just came in with her and were joining the ones that were already there. Bones looked around, making eye-contact with Dumbledore (and she was not in a good mood), pausing slightly when she saw Nymphadora, before looking to Dwalish when he stepped forward.

"Harriet Potter utilized a dark ritual Ma'am," Dawlish loudly stated, electing himself as the spokesman. "She was the cause of the magical build-up the Ministry scanners picked up, breaking more than just a few laws. The Minister was right that she was a danger to us all, look what she did! She has to be brought in!"

"Shut it!" Nymphadora shot back irritated. "The Minister has his head up his own arse. He'd think his chair was a danger if he accidentally tipped over it."

Dawlish got an unpleasant grin on his face, as if pleased that Nymphadora spoke up. "That right there is treasonous talk. And what was it about Harriet saying you were passing information to a certain someone? That your loyalties are not with the Ministry? Maybe we should ask you some questions Nymphadora, hmm?"

"I thought that everything Harriet said were the words of an attention seeking liar, according to the Minister?" Nymphadora countered. "And don't. Call me. Nymphadora."

" _Enough_! Both of you!" Bones barked. "And Dawlish, if you have any _reasonable_ ideas on how to retrieve Miss Potter then I'm all ears, since I don't see her anywhere for questioning," she added, the mocking in her tone prominent. Dawlish puffed up but then deflated when he realized he didn't have any ideas either, considering the fact that Harriet used an illegal ritual. She then turned to the Headmaster. "Headmaster Dumbledore, why are you here?" She asked tiredly of him.

It took a moment for Dumbledore to get his thoughts together, but when he did, he managed to get a genial smile on his face. "Ah, Amelia, that is a very interesting-"

"Shut it. Get to the point," Bones snapped, causing Dumbledore's own jaw to snap shut in the very public reprimand. _Well… that was rude. Though I will ignore it this time as it may be she's stressed. It's a shame really she didn't look up to me for guidance when she was in Hogwarts_ , he lamented briefly in his mind. _That independence has for better or worse carried over into her Ministry position, meaning while she isn't as susceptible to the inherent corruption the Ministry has, she's also not willing to listen fully to my ideals. I do hope that her niece will bring her around to my way of thinking in time._

Unknowing -and probably uncaring- of Dumbledore's inner monologue, Bones continued her relentless questioning. "How did you know that Harriet Potter was here? Did you know she was conducting a highly dangerous ritual?"

Dumbledore sighed and the twinkle in his eyes all but vanished. "No I did not. And if I did, I would've done everything I could to stop her from using one of the darkest branches of magic. And as for your first question she was at the home of a friend of mine and she slipped out by potioning the inhabitants with a sleeping draught. Alas, by the time we managed to track her down to Gringotts over an hour had passed, and then she… eluded us by apparating. After, I merely used a 'Point Me' spell repeatedly to triangulate her position once she finally stopped moving around, halting here," he gestured to the stone pillars.

 _Since the tracking charm on her glasses was dispelled inside Gringotts (I can only assume the Goblins removed it for some reason) and she didn't have them on for the ritual, I needed to resort to other methods to find her... And her eyes…_ he got distracted upon thinking of that change. _I'll have to check in my Pensieve, but I could have sworn they were golden yellow._

Amelia's eyes showed some surprise at the mention of Harriet Apparating. "What was Miss Potter doing at one of your 'friend's' house?" Amelia started prying. "Last I recall she lives with her muggle relatives."

Dumbledore nodded. "She does, but after the unfortunate incident with the Dementors she decided to spend the rest of her summer with her friends who were also visiting; which as far as I can recall isn't a crime, isn't it?"

Her grey eyes narrowed, but he knew he stopped that line of questioning. "No it isn't."

"Good! Now then, since I answered your questions I won't be any further help here since I arrived after your Aurors, so they can give you more details than I can. I must return to Hogwarts."

Before Amelia could say another word Dumbledore apparated away. Haven given a statement (as brief as it was) he no longer needed to stay there. Anything else she wanted he could have time to formulate a reply. Plus he'd much rather not have his decisions questioned by someone like Amelia yet when it was too soon, when Tom hadn't revealed himself yet. And he needed to begin damage control.

Somewhere along the line he also needed to have time to review his memories of tonight… as well as re-read a few letters he had preemptively confiscated from emotional receivers (since they were irrationally thinking and didn't want him to have their letters), along with a certain unopened letter that was addressed to him. Things had just gone even more to hell now.

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"Damn!" Amelia Bones stomped her foot in frustration as Dumbledore Apparated away before she controlled herself. "That bloody old coot."

Despite whatever the Daily Prophet was spouting, under the surface almost everyone still respected the man that was Albus Dumbledore. It was only because he's done so little to counteract what's being said against him that the Wizarding populace was being swept up in the anti-Dumbledore, anti-Harriet Potter wave. And the recent decisions he's made haven't helped the public make sense of his thoughts (and frankly that also applied to the members of the Ministry who weren't a part of his bird club).

So when Amelia saw him standing at the edge of a burned out ritual circle, she jumped on the chance. Despite not being able to ask half of her questions, as he took the slightest break she'd unwittingly offered, she still managed to gain some insight. There was a reason he was here beyond his position as Ms. Potter's guardian, and she wanted to find out what.

Unfortunately his answer of utilizing the 'Point Me' spell was logical and sound for a man with Dumbledore's abilities, so she couldn't go further down that line despite misgivings she had. However, her understanding of the situation couldn't make sense of why Dumbledore himself (an important figure) was looking for her, nor why Ms. Potter allegedly potioned the inhabitants of the home she was staying at to get away. There was another story here that didn't sit right with her –someone either didn't have the whole story or was deliberately hiding something. Most likely Dumbledore, though Harriet wasn't exempt from suspicion, as the evidence of this ritual suggested further disturbing scenarios.

Despite being stripped of most of his titles, Dumbledore was still an influential man, and when he talked, most listened –hence why people were turning against him as he _wasn't_ talking. Or rather, wasn't explaining his claims well enough, nor offering tangible proof (no matter how much Amelia wanted to get at those 'pardoned' Death Eaters). He claimed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back based on Harriet's words, but offered no further proof other than Harriet's initial declaration and him insisting. It made him look bad, but it made Harriet look worse since he was going off of what _she_ said.

Many of his actions lately were becoming more suspect, as well as his previous decisions. Amelia had suspicions the Headmaster had reformed his Order, and, with what had been said tonight, suggested that her youngest Auror recruit, Nymphadora Tonks, was a part of it. Inherently, this created a conflict of interests that Amelia would make sure Tonks knew the ramifications of. However, she couldn't fire her because that would definitely drive her to Dumbledore's camp and she would lose a promising Auror.

Amelia really hated playing politics with her own forces. Bloody annoying.

Then there was the Harriet Potter factor.

The girl was -if not more- mysterious as Dumbledore since little to no real information (not gossip, slander, or fiction) was available of her. Very little un-biased, un-embellished news came out of Hogwarts, and nothing they could fact-check as Dumbledore didn't like outside people poking around in 'his' castle. And even what they did have available was… incomplete, questionable.

 _Questionable. That's a good, if lacking, word to describe the last Potter_ and _Dumbledore's choices regarding her,_ Amelia ruminated. The common reason/excuse given over the years concerning Miss Potter was that he was her Magical Guardian and Headmaster, so it wasn't their concern to pry into her personal life. And until recently he ran the Wizengamot so he could block any inquiries about her and unilaterally decide things for her. Additionally he headed the block of votes the Potter family had on the Wizengamot, claiming that it was James and Lily's decision in their (sealed) will. But Amelia had her doubts, as did many other people, but by now it was an accepted fact and wasn't questioned anymore.

Amelia shook her head, lamenting the complacency of the Wizarding world, then refocused on the present and started barking out orders. "Start erecting Muggle Repelling wards and begin analyzing the ritual. Dawli- no, Tonks," Amelia changed her mind as Dawlish would just fan the flames, since he was a Fudge lackey -forced into her Department much to her ire. "Go back to the Ministry and get someone from the Department of Mysteries to examine the ritual ring and the affects it had –they're better suited for this sort of thing. _And then after, you and I are going to have a chat about some things_." Amelia said in a lower tone, and felt satisfied when she saw the young Metamorph nod worriedly then apparate away.

Amelia stepped closer to the ritual site and looked around at her Aurors doing their work, examining anything they might deem evidence. "Merlin, it's going to be a hell of a shit storm when this gets out," she muttered. _The Minister and the Daily Prophet's going to have a field day with this… And because Miss Potter will no longer a viable target, Dumbledore's going to get the brunt now… He has made one to many errors._

 _The names Dumbledore and Potter seem destined to cause headaches whenever they're involved…_ she thought to herself.

Unknown to everyone, Dumbledore had made one further mistake by apparating away as quickly as he did, for he missed as an Auror picked up a black and white ovular rock, a little bigger than the size of a fist, from the burned out remains of a smaller circle and bagged it for investigation. For if Dumbledore had seen it, he would have recognized what it was and taken it, regardless of the consequences for doing so in view of the Aurors.

However, he wasn't here, and the 'rock' would get lost in the near endless boxes of evidence the DMLE had collected since its foundation, sealed away, forgotten within a month.

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* * *

 _Hours earlier…_

 _Longbottom Manor_

Nevile looked up at the source of the flapping wings coming closer to the Longbottom greenhouse, and saw a familiar white owl descend onto a branch next to him. "Oh, 'ello Hedwig. You have a letter?" The owl barked and nodded, holding out her leg for him to take the letter off. "You're scarily intelligent, you know that?" Nevile had to comment, and was rewarded with a smug look from the owl (he had no idea that an owl could look smug) and another nod.

Shaking his head in amusement, Nevile untied the letter from her foot and took it. "Does she want a reply?" This time he got a negative shake, once again confirming the scary level of intelligence the snowy owl had. That was the last thing Hedwig did before taking off into the slowly darkening sky, almost glowing like a star from the sheer whiteness of her feathers catching the last remaining rays of the sun.

Nevile was curious as to where Hedwig took off so quickly, but put it aside instead for the letter in his hand. _I should read this inside,_ he thought as he started his way back into the Manor. Longbottom Manor was ancient, dating back at least a thousand years, and the architecture showed. The inside however was a mix of old and new, much to Nevile's relief he reflected as he walked through the hallways. He'd been to other Pureblood manors before and, thinking on it, wasn't surprised how some of their decedents turned out. _Course, from what I've heard from Harriet, the Slytherin common room is only reinforcing that._

Nevile went through the halls that he knew like the back of his hand… figuratively, he knew the manor better actually. Coming to his room, he sat down at the desk and placed the letter in front of him, thinking of the sender.

He would admit, as a red-blooded male, Harriet was attractive –but personally unnerving once you knew she was putting on a mask for everyone. Nevile could never get a good read on her moods when she tutored him, but he could tell there was always something going on that she was dividing her attention –either actively or unintentionally. It was never a desire to be elsewhere away from him, which would've been his first guess because of his magic studies troubles, but if she was carefully planning her week from that point on and beyond.

Then there was the other things he noticed, like how she seemed to go through the motions of friendship and camaraderie, but without any true feeling…

Shrugging out of his thoughts, he opened the letter and began to read.

He was not prepared for its contents.

 _-Nevile_

 _By the time you're reading this then I won't be on this earth much longer. No, I am not dying, as that's the last thing I want to do. I'm escaping the reaches of Dumbledore and Voldemort, and I highly doubt you'll see me again. Because of that, I wrote this to explain some things and to urge you along a better path._

 _I would hope by now after four years you'd learned a little bit about me and how…_ _ **cold**_ _I can be. I'm merely a product of how life's treated me and as such did unto it as it did unto me. In my perspective, people were either useful or not. Living with my… I hesitate to even give them the name 'relatives', I never had friends and, even now, don't really know what friends are or what friendship entails. For you, I saw untapped potential, and felt a little camaraderie between us, as both of us had the shadow of our parents looming over us, altering how others saw us and not seeing_ _ **us**_ _._

 _I will admit I have used you. But in doing so I've assisted you in becoming a greater wizard. I did this in the mindset that you would aid me when I would ask, since you would be indebted to me for helping you become who you are now. My rational was that I needed to give you a reason to help me, since no one has ever done so on their own volition unless I manipulated them. Alas, I understand that just a letter won't ease your emotions and I hope that you don't loathe me too much for deceiving you in such a fashion._

 _As a parting message, I hope that you continue growing on your own. You cannot deny that I've helped you, but some of that was your own desire to expand your horizons. The greatest master cannot teach a student if the student isn't willing to learn._

 _Changing subjects, I'm writing this for a few reasons. First, as I said before, to explain a little of myself and my actions toward you. Second, because of our closer association, you should hear what led up to my decision tonight directly from me -not from a second-hand source. Third, my personal reasons for what I'm doing._

 _My purpose for leaving is mixed, but the main motive is that I see no purpose to 'save' the wizarding world as some expect me to. I decided it wasn't worth the effort on my behalf to try and change the stagnant and backwards wizarding world when they would vilify me on a whim. While individuals may not think in such a way, collectively they have sunken into a pit of ignorance, corruption, bigotry, and frankly idiocy the like of which is astounding to comprehend. The urge to conform –to go with the flow- or be ostracized is the basis for politics, with the small, rich elite ruling over the larger, and collectively poorer majority. England is corrupt to the core._

 _If I had wished, I could have, in time, taken control myself, but that would have been far too much effort and would've run the risk of me being killed sooner than later –and not just because of some melodramatic megalomaniac Lord. And I'm not just solely implying Voldemort._

 _That goes into my second reason. I no longer wanted to be controlled by those who claimed to be doing things 'for my own good'. No longer kept deliberately ignorant of my heritage, my inherent power (Magic), and the world I am a part of. No longer be threatened by the Dark Lord that painted a target on my back and the 'Light' Lord that pointed the afore-mentioned Lord in my family's direction. I decided to forge a new life for me, to gain the power and influence that was denied to me._

 _Because of this 'selfish', but deserved decision, my name will be run through the mud greater than ever before - as I expect you'll no doubt see in the paper tomorrow I think, but that's just par for the course really. The actions I'll take may seem dark, but when faced with such odds, every alternative is preferable. But… whilst I chose not to be a part of this world anymore, I planted seeds, ideas, to change it. There are others that think along the same ideas that I do. You know of whom I speak. I hope that you'll see what can be done._

 _You are a rare breed of man, Nevile Longbottom, someone who is humble –far humbler than I- but carries an inner strength without boasting it. I believe you'll be a foundation for change if you so choose. If you do not wish to see it through, then I suppose it is understandable. Disappointing, but understandable nonetheless. But ask yourself if you really desire for your world to continue down this path. Despite what others wish, Voldemort is back; but he's merely a symptom of the larger disease._

 _I realize you may be asking yourself why I feel so strongly about this. I feel that it's a shame. A shame that such a society with so much potential is being squandered by those who wish to stifle and control it. However, I have a much more personal reason for why I went through the effort to make these seeds even if I won't be here. It's simple: to make life harder for those certain individuals that made my own life hard. Purely out of spite. I hope you find it amusing in some fashion._

 _With many regards_

 _-H. Potter_

 _P.S.: It should go without saying that this letter contains things that may be dangerous for your health if found in your possessions. Dispose of it when it's necessary._

Nevile's first reaction was shock.

Shock and surprise.

But when it wore off, he started to think back on all the years he's known, and had known _of_ , Harriet Potter. Nevile was smarter than most people would assume –something that many overlooked because of his near squib levels for years- and after he got over his first emotions reading this, thinking back now he could see the signs and found that he could not be too angry with Harriet.

 _Yes she manipulated me, and I am hurt that she thought she could use me that way. But… she's also_ right _, which is irritating. Because she helped me, I wanted to help her in return. I think part of it was a sense of repayment, or honoring a debt, but there was more to it than that. I didn't know what it was, but now I think I do. I wanted to help her be a better person, not someone who was so cold (which is ironic considering how well she likes fire) to life and people._

He snorted in mockery. _I guess I wasn't helpful enough._ He moved to his bed and lied down, deep in thought. _Is she really going to do as she said and leave?_ He immediately crossed that thought out. _She said she would, and the only reason she wouldn't is if someone stopped her… and it takes a lot of effort to do so I guess it won't sink in for me until later when I see the papers. How is she leaving? She was skimpy on the details… but I suppose that is understandable._

 _I would've never guessed this happening, but it's not so surprising looking back. All those things over the years… But what was that about her 'seeds'? It sounds like she's made plans with others. And I_ will _join,_ he decided. Maybe it was a bit simplistic, or maybe it was just a way to repay her for her help. Or possibly it was because on some level he also agreed with messing things up, as the current system wasn't working and he agreed because of his own experiences… _that oddly mirror hers, like really closely, just slightly different,_ he realized with a shock. _We're like near mirrors of each other… that's… disturbing…_

He sighed and stared upwards at the ceiling. _Well… I can't really do anything at the moment until Hogwarts comes around in half a month. It's going to be different without Harriet there, and I don't think that will be a good different for a while…_

…

 _Actually, I_ can _do something,_ Nevile sat upwards with his sudden thought. _Learn more. Practice. Longbottom Manor has wards that shield from the Underage Restrictions, so I can use the practice dueling room, and the library –while not as large as Hogwarts'- has different books I can read. And maybe even Grandmum will finally get off my back if I show this initiative…_

 _But… it's too late today. Tomorrow's another day. Destiny can wait a day longer…_

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 _Elsewhere, also earlier…_

"Uhhhhhguh…" Such an undignified sound normally wouldn't have come out of Hermione's mouth when she would wake up, but this wasn't a normal situation. The side of her face was sore and she could feel a twinge in her ribs. With her mind already at work so soon after waking up, she was trying to connect the dots. Considering that she felt the hardwood floor under her, she probably felt sore because she fell out of her chair. _And why did I fall out of my…_ the drink!

Once she realized the cause, she groaned again, knowing what happened. Of the few times she hated her mind, this was one of the quirks she had, as she was so focused inwards, thinking at this desk after Harriet vacated the room, that she absentmindedly drank the tea that was there which she assumed Mrs. Weasley brought in. But she hadn't been paying attention, so it was from who knows where.

And that led to her current position.

Literally.

Hermione bolted upright from the floor. Unfortunately for her, the unknowingly potioned drink she had ingested was still affecting her and made her vision spin until she couldn't take it and had to steady herself on the table she was previously sitting at until her vision stopped doing bizarre things. A minute later she felt well enough to examine her drink. Now that she was paying attention to it, the cup smelled just a tad sweeter than it should, barely noticeable unless someone really got a good whiff first.

Something else she noticed was that the tea was hot when she first got it. Now the tea was cold. _How long was I out? No, forget that! Why was I drugged in the first place?! Who gave it to me?_

Standing up fully, she walked out of her door -only stumbling slightly as she did so- and entered a metaphorical madhouse. Hermione was actually taken aback from the sheer pandemonium that was happening.

Several members of the Order were running amuck, rushing about as if to do something but not actually doing anything –all confused and disoriented. Mrs. Weasley was splitting her attention between hollering at her kids –who were adding to the chaos, except Ginny, who was absent from this mayhem- and competing with the portrait of Mrs. Black, who was also shouting at the top of her lungs about the usual (blood-traitors, mudbloods, etc.).

Hermione weaved her way through the chaos to enter the kitchen. _The bloody hell is happening here?_ Only in her head did she allow herself to curse like that, as she needed to be the one in the group to be somewhat more civilized. However, right now she was really bewildered. The sound barely diminished as she entered the kitchen, but it seemed to fade away at the sight of the two faces that greeted her.

Ginny's face displayed shock and deep melancholy, though she seemed more responsive than the other as she looked up when Hermione entered through the door. Hermione was taken aback briefly, as the emotions were genuine, unlike all the faked emotions Ginny usually projected to continue her façade as a naïve, younger Gryffindor. However, it was the sight of the owner and head of 12 Grimmauld Place, Sirius Black, which truly rattled her.

Sirius looked like he had just escaped Azkaban again, as his face was drawn back and pale. His eyes were wide and unseeing, slightly crazed from disbelief. His left hand was clenched around a glass that had a golden-brown coloring, and his right was clutching a letter that Hermione could see Harriet's handwriting on.

"What's happened?" It was a simple question, but with a more complex answer that she wanted to know.

Ginny was the one that answered her question. With just two words that shook her to her core.

"Harriet's gone."

Hermione was silenced. She could sense that it was more than just a simple disappearance. Something more severe had happened. Something far more dangerous. "What do you mean by 'gone'?" Hermione asked slowly, trying to make sense of this. For someone who was so strong and sturdy to just leave was… incomprehensible to Hermione.

"Gone," Sirius croaked, his voice rough and compromised by emotion. "Not here. Not just here-here, but not on this world anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Harriet wrote a letter to Sirius, and in it she said that… she _made_ a ritual to travel to another world, and she was going to use it… _tonight_." Ginny said, and in spite of everything, Hermione could hear the undertone of awe of her idol. However, that took backseat to numbness –the kind of numbness one gets when something is suddenly taken away from you.

"Travel to another world? A ritual? That's illegal and highly dangerous! Do you know how much trouble she could be in if she was caught?! Why would she-" Hermione suddenly cut herself off as her rational mind caught up, breaking her out of her growing rant. The lecture was unwarranted and unneeded at this point anyways.

Harriet's last words came back to her, and she suddenly remembered details that she'd forgotten, going back years. It wasn't until now that she started to see a larger side of the picture. "No, actually I think I may know why."

Seeing the inquisitive look she was getting, Hermione tried to explain, but the words got caught as she was trying to find the words in addition to making realizations, stringing together moments. Little hints and phrases that Harriet said and insinuated over the years, general longing and desires. It was all starting to come together for her. "I…" Hermione halted again and, for once, she was at a loss for words. A minute later, she started again, slowly. "I knew she was… displeased with what was happening… but…" _To take such a step… I didn't know she was that fed up… I should have seen- I should have realized…_

Creating a ritual to send the user to another _world_ , Herminone had to admit, was incredible considering that all forms of rituals were banned in Great Britain and knowledge restricted by the conservative ministry. With her non-magical upbringing, she had read science-fiction and fantasy stories that mentioned such things, she it wasn't completely an alien idea… but still impossible- at least, until she found out she lived in a world of magic, where impossible just becomes difficult.

And if Harriet conceived such a ritual to have such a drastic purpose… then it must have been a last resort, the final act in this world.

"She left tonight?" She wanted to confirm.

"After she sleep-potioned everyone in the building," Ginny verified.

 _Well, that explains why I woke up on the floor... could've been a little more considerate…_ Hermione grumbled in her thoughts. _But… if she did so, Harriet must've meant for it to wear off when it did. Sleeping Potions can last a whole night, yet ours wore off in a couple of hours._ And _she would have made sure to destroy any descriptions of the ritual she made so no one could find her. She's not stupid, and would've not made that mistake…_

 _Aside from us, her few friends, there is no-one here that she would want finding her…_

"And now the Order's in an uproar because they haven't been able to find her for a couple of hours," Ginny continued, a little bit of humor in her voice.

Both of the girls shared a slight distain of the members in he Order of the Phoenix (Ginny more than Hermione). However, despite their closer relation to her, they didn't participate in the antagonistic actions Harriet made against the Order, largely because they didn't have enough leeway as Harriet did -being the 'Girl-Who-Lived' and all that tripe. It was slightly astounding what the Order let Harriet get away with –mainly verbal goading and mockery.

Most of it well deserved.

Hermione herself was mixed in her views. She held the belief that most of the Order were good people (many being from Hogwarts or closely related to the school), but by-and-large it was split between those who couldn't think for themselves, and those who could but _chose_ to let Dumbledore do the thinking for them. However, she had a good amount of respect for Dumbledore (albeit less than when she first learned of Magic and started Hogwarts –oddly diminishing with her budding association with Harriet), and in the last year had been torn between her idolization of her Headmaster and former head of two government bodies, and Harriet's ability to tear holes in that idolization through reason and circumstance which actually made Hermione see the many faults Dumbledore has.

However, it wasn't enough to stop her from obeying the Headmaster when he asked something of her. Though when Harriet arrived in Grimmauld Place, Hermione was quickly made to regret listening to him about not sending letters to Harriet. The green-eyed girl made her disappointment abundantly clear and Hermione realized that she needed to make it up to Harriet. _I practically turned my back on her and all the help and magical tutoring she gave me. At least Ginny tried –something that I'm ashamed I didn't do._

Putting her past mistakes aside, Hermione focused on the present. "Harriet wouldn't have left any clues where she went. She would've made sure of it. And if the Order couldn't find her immediately, that means she has eluded them for the moment." There was a loud crash, which increased the shouting outside. Both of the girls grimaced at the cacophony. "Even if they were drugged that doesn't warrant them running around like headless flobberworms because they can't find her."

"But flobberworms can't-"

"It was a metaphor Ginny," Hermione interrupted, the comment bringing a slimmer of levity to the situation. However it wasn't to last as a thought occurred to Hermione. "Sirius… did she leave letters for anyone else?" _For us,_ was the unspoken, near pleading, question.

"She put everyone to sleep via tea… She gave me my dose… and my letter… a little more personally," Sirius started, his voice still unsteady. "I don't know if she left any." He produced what may have been a chuckle, but it came out strangled and choked. "She bloody stabbed me in the neck with a needle filled with sleeping potion!" He sobered up real fast. "She… left me a letter… explaining why she left… and writing some hard truths that…" He trailed off, slowly looking down at the letter again.

Hermione met Ginny's eyes, and they both understood that Sirius had too much of a shock for him to help them out. "There was some… personal things in the letter," Ginny supplied, clearly both uncomfortable and unknowing of the full details, as it was a private letter they didn't have the right to read without permission. "But… if she did leave letters, they would be in her room."

"Indeed there were, Miss Weasley."

Ginny noticeably stiffened at that voice before forcing herself to relax. Hermione was better off, but not by much as her recent enlightenment made her extremely wary. She turned to see one source of major antagonism for Harriet's life: Albus Dumbledore.

"Headmaster," Hermione had the common sense to greet him somewhat cordially. Ginny however said nothing, keeping her face blank. _I know for a fact she's forcing her Occlumency barriers to the max as a precaution…_ It was something Hermione was doing as well as a precaution. Neither of them were proficient enough to have a solid barrier, but they were good enough to have a cloud which could muddle surface probes and alert them if someone was launching a full mental assault. 'Course they wouldn't withstand a full attack like that, but that was beside the point.

If they were in that situation to begin with, then they had messed up and probably deserved to be in that mess. Harriet was somewhat unforgiving if you made a mistake, as she was the one that taught them how to make Occlumency barriers as further magical studies. As Harriet would say, there was only so much hand-holding she would do before they needed to learn for themselves.

Hermione was uncertain of learning from Harriet about this, but when she realized that most of the Pure-Blood wizards knew this technique, and that there was a counterpart that could read minds, she desperately tore through the information.

In retrospect, Hermione concluded that Harriet taught them Occlumency as a forethought just for encounters such as this.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore acknowledged her presence, before looking at Sirius. Hermione saw something, some emotion, flash behind that twinkle in his eyes before it was gone. "Sirius, my lad, would you be so kind as to give me your letter? I must have all the available information dear Harriet left behind so I can discern where she may have gone to bring her back safely."

 _That sounds like a load of garbage. How could I have bought things like that in the past? He only wants Harriet where he can keep track of her… well, more than he has in the past. If he finds her, I know she'll never have free movement again._ Hermione then realized something dangerous. _Shite, Sirius is too far out of it right now to go against Dumbledore at the moment. If he gives in, we'll loose the only things she's left us for good!_ Hermione's heart was pounding, trying to figure out a balance between the two influences in her mind... or which one to choose finally.

Dumbledore, or Harriet.

It was actually an easy choice to go with her heart than her head.

However, despite her sharp mind finally deciding on a person, it wasn't Hermione that distracted Dumbledore with fast thinking. It was Ginny. "Sir?"

"Hmm?" Dumbledore turned his attention to the redhead, as a apex animal would to a nuisance before dismissing it.

"You said that Harriet wrote letters for us. May we go get them?"

"Oh, no. No need. I currently have collected them as I need all the clues to discern Harriet's location before she attempts something that would be most unwise," Dumbledore said, merely humoring her question, though he sounded mildly concerned about what Harriet could do in the time that she was out from under his nose.

"You've read them?" Ginny asked, and Hermione could tell that her growing anger wasn't _entirely_ fabricated for the situation.

"I've skimmed them over," he verbally shrugged. "However, they did not have any hints at my first look, hence I'll keep them for the time being."

"Sir," Hermione spoke, finally catching on to Ginny's plan, and found it the best option available. "Those are _our_ letters. Addressed to _us_ , not you. We would like to read them."

"There will be no need for that Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, taking note of her warning tone and firmly standing his ground against her rising frustration. "Once I have found Harriet I'll have her explain to you that these letters were in bad taste, and that her reckless actions were made without considering those who wish to keep her safe, and endangering towards her life." _Actually, I think they were made considering_ exactly _that_ , Hermione thought, trying to hold back a scoff at the blatant embellishment.

"In any case sir, we would still like to read them."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible Miss Granger," he said with a tone of finality. "But I must ask, were you two in any way informed of Harriet's plans for tonight? Did she give you any information about what she intended to do or where she was headed?"

"No sir. She told us nothing. We're in the dark as much as you," Hermione said, even as she recalled the last thing Harriet said to her. _"…no one should go through what I have to see the truth. Though I'll soon find a way to be free completely."_

Suddenly, Hermione felt a pressure, something that was trying to push the clouds away in her mind, and wrenched her head to the side to break the accidental eye contact she made with the Headmaster before he could get further with his mental probe. _Damn it. Harriet was right. I can't trust him… not after he tried to read my thoughts._ "I can't believe she would leave without mentioning it to us," she played off her abrupt movement as if she were disheartened at the actions of her friend.

In truth, she _was_ disheartened, but by the actions of the Headmaster. With that Legilimency probe, he demolished the last of her respect and trust towards him.

"Indeed, I'll be sure to mention that to her when I find her," Dumbledore said, still playing the part of a caring grandfather. "But, my boy Sirius, I must have that letter. Any insight into where she may have gone would greatly aid me in-"

"No."

Hermione and Ginny, in that one moment, became two of the few people who had ever seen Dumbledore truly confounded at such a blatant refusal –interrupting him no less! In another situation Hermione may have found amusement in it, but this was far from the appropriate moment.

"No?"

"No." Sirius repeated, his eyes clearing as he stood up to face Dumbledore. "I know that Harriet doesn't exactly trust you, and while I thought I did, I love my goddaughter too much to spit on her wishes. There's nothing for you in this letter Headmaster," he continued, a little calmer. "Nothing that can help you find her."

"Sirius, I must be sure-"

"I'm telling you there isn't anything," Sirius interrupted him again, now frustrated. "If she didn't tell me before she stabbed me in the neck, she wouldn't have written it down for me to read after the fact. Too much of the letter is personal for me for others to see. I… need to think over some things… take a hard look…"

"Sirius-"

"No!" Sirius all but shouted at the Headmaster, his eyes flashing. "My decision is final. If you try to take this letter from me, the Order would not be welcome in my home." Dumbledore's eyebrows weren't the only ones to shoot upwards at that declaration. _Wow. Sirius is actually standing up to the Headmaster for once… too bad all it took was for Harriet to go to an extreme before she could make him grow a spine around the Headmaster… and for me to finally see him as a manipulator…_

"That's one of the things I need to think over," Sirius said while looking around at the room, though he was in truth looking at the whole house. "This is my own house yet _I'm_ the guest that's making people uncomfortable. While I hate this place it is mine and I need to stay here until I get my trial… a trial that's fourteen years too late, _former_ Chief Warlock."

"Sirius, there's no need for such extreme reactions. Why don't you sit back down and once I've found Harriet we can have our emotions cool down."

"And what about our letters Headmaster?" Ginny pressed again, annoyed at having something that is intended for her in someone else's hands.

"Now now, I know you are feeling hurt at Harriet's sudden departure, but like I just said, let's let our emotions cool and have clearer heads prevail."

"My head is clear. Why do you have our letters? It's near almost mail theft!" Ginny pressed, much to Hermione's trepidation. _You're toeing a dangerous line right now Ginny. You're not even a fourth year student yet._

Indeed, it seemed that Ginny had pushed just a tad too much, and Dumbledore pushed back. "Harriet is under my guardianship, which is legally recognized by the Ministry. Despite what you may think, Sirius' claim will not hold up in the current court for obvious, if mistaken, reasons. These letters I must review… but enough of that," Dumbledore changed topics, and with it, the near oppressive swell eased off of Hermione. Ginny, while strong-willed, suffered the worse of it because it was his attention that she captured. Her face was a little paler than usual and her fists were clenched to keep them from jittering.

Dumbledore not turned to Sirius and sighed, seemingly disappointed in him. "My boy, I hope your stubborn refusal doesn't cost us Harriet, for I fear if I do not find her, we may never see her again. If she does in fact attempt a ritual, she may be killed in the attempt, or be caught by the Ministry. And I do hope you're aware at what they would do if they did catch her," he said with a piercing look.

Sirius just grunted. "That's _if_ they catch her," he said, almost pettily.

Dumbledore gave him an unamused glare. "Then it's all the more critical that I find her first." He started to leave, but not without a parting comment. "When I return with her, there will have to be a serious discussion about what needs to be done to get rid of Voldemort." With that name, Ginny and Sirius gave a small start, while Hermione was mostly unaffected, thanks to Harriet.

Mentioning it to them was a low blow, but expected from him.

"We all must be unified, together, in acts and thoughts." With that, Dumbledore left, and they heard the faint sound of the Floo being used.

Hermione sighed, before she yelped in surprise when Ginny grabbed her arm. "C'mon! She probably hid extra letters somewhere in her room for us to find!"

"Wait, slow down! Extra letters?"

Ginny gave her a dubious look, questioning if she was really that confused. "Harriet would've known the Headmaster would've taken the letters she'd wrote. She's not stupid. She would've made duplicates and hid them."

"Alright, alright, I can walk myself!" Hermione said as Ginny had yet to let go at that point. A moment later, as they went down the second floor hallway, she asked, "Did she really leave us letters? What if those were the only ones? Why did she leave us-"

"We're here." Ginny interrupted her before she could build up steam and opened the door. The room looked the same, but something just seemed different. Like a presence wasn't there anymore -absent.

Ginny strolled into the room and went to Harriet's desk, opening drawers but not finding anything. "Check under her bed or something," Ginny told Hermione. Hermione shrugged and checked several places, but coming up empty-handed.

After a few minutes, Ginny huffed and drew her wand. Before Hermione could ask what she planned on doing with it, Ginny flicked her wand and incanted, "Accio Harriet's Letters!" Nothing happened.

"Ginny! Do you know what you're doing?" Hermione incredulously asked. "You just performed underage magic!"

"Oh shush, we're under wards, I've been doing this for weeks ever since Harriet told me that loophole," Ginny dismissed before trying to summon the letters again, with the same results.

"Wait, loopholes? What… Harriet told you?" _And not me?_ Hermione was a little hurt at that.

Ginny gave her another look. "Until today you would've told somebody, and -admit it- it probably would've been Dumbledore." Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but it died in her throat, knowing Ginny was right.

"Accio Letters! Damn!" Ginny kicked the desk in frustration. " _Did_ Dumbledore take all of them?"

"I don't know…" Hermione said. "But… your spell wasn't working… so…"

"I know it works! Accio pen!" The pen on the desk zipped to her hand. "See! Something must be blocking them- my spell from working on them! I-I-…" She suddenly slumped and sat down in the chair, all her confidence breaking down. "I don't want her to be gone…" she nearly whispered. "She was one of the only ones that helped me through the aftermath of… the Chamber… made sure I was coping healthily… make up for her mistakes when no one else… not even my family…"

Hermione sighed and walked over to the redhead and started rubbing her back comfortingly. "I don't know… Harriet… was- is a complicated person… You managed to get closer to her than I, but she still tried to keep us at arms length emotionally. But I did get the feeling she wanted to help us - not because we would give her something in return, but because she's a good person under… all of her," she finished, not knowing how to describe it.

Ginny chuckled. "Oh I know. As two Gryffindors who should've been in Slytherin, I know… But you don't give yourself enough credit. Yes I may have been her… protégé, but you were with her more. That has to count for something, right?"

Hermione gave a smile. "I would've thought so until this summer when I nearly threw it all away listening to that old man." She gave another look around the room. "Harriet had goals… but without her… I don't know where to go from here. We can't trust the Ministry, we can't trust Dumbledore, Voldemort's still out there… where does that leave us?"

"We'll figure it out. Think of it as another test and use that mind of yours to think about what she wanted," Ginny said.

"Hmpf. There's more to me than my mind," Hermione said, haughtily, but jokingly as well.

"But it is one of the best parts about you," Ginny added, teasing.

The banter helped distract the two from the world, from the missing person. For a little bit they could push away the incoming fallout. For a little while.

* * *

The fallout was as incredible as they thought it would be.

The next day a special edition of The Daily Prophet was released, showcasing Harriet's ritual and subsequent departure from this world. Harriet's name was dragged through the mud and worse, with the Ministry calling her a rising Dark Lady or insane and dangerous. Considering Britain's view on rituals, it was understandable that they took a rather dim view on the subject. The fact that it was an idol was just extra meat.

The populace turned on her with the ferocity of starving wolves, and those who were sitting on the fence on it suddenly declared that "they knew all along she was a bad apple" and other rubbish. Hermione and Ginny knew that if there were any supporters or people still adoring Harriet they would be ripped to shreds if they didn't have Dumbledore's silent (and strangely reluctant) backing.

Eventually, the news shifted the blame to Dumbledore, as to how he could've allowed Harriet to learn ritual magic. Did he teach her rituals, or was it just negligence that allowed her to learn these things. Basically everything they could criticize him for, they did with ruthless abandon. The only thing Dumbledore spoke up against was teaching Harriet ritual magic and reaffirmed his previous stance from when he was the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump that rituals should be extinguished. Overall he displayed the wonderfully mastered disappointed-grandfatherly act about her actions, which made people back off of him to an extent, showing that even though he was kicked out of his positions, Dumbledore still held influence among the populace.

It might have helped that he was far more descriptive and open about this than his other claims and actions.

When Dumbledore re-appeared in Grimmauld Place, he seemed a bit more strained than before. His attempt to get Harriet back failed, and any leads were dead. They logically, and correctly assumed that Harriet learned everything she needed from the Black Library, but when Dumbledore finally got to Sirius try and unlock the Black Library, they failed. Not even Sirius having Black blood and magic could open the sealed doors. Kreacher wasn't any help and was delighted with their growing infuriation of their failures. And because this was the house of Black, Dumbledore didn't want to try and undo the wards around the Library, for fear of ancestral retribution –albeit he said that he didn't want to risk bringing all the wards down around them, which _was_ another sound reason.

The Order met several times a day, and thanks to Fred and George's extendable ears, they could listen in on the meetings. Granted, hardly anything except empty talk happened, but it was better than being left in the dark as it were. Voldemort had made no moves yet, but it was only a matter of time with one of his main rivals gone. With Harriet gone, Voldemort would feel freer in his movements -less gradual than he had been moving, but no less cautious. And he also had Harriet's 'glassification' to still recover from, which gave the Order some time.

Dumbledore and his Order, however, weren't their only sources of aggravation. Ronald had been spouting to anyone who stayed long enough to hear- and then even when they didn't- his feelings of how _he_ was the one she betrayed, wondering why she left him, and how he knew she was dark all along but hoped that he could lead her to the light, how she abandoned the world to darkness, etc. It was pathetic yet incredible to see, like a disgusting disaster that has an ensnaring quality, preventing one from looking away. Even Dumbledore was off-put by the second youngest Weasley, which was remarkable.

It was the fourth day after Harriet left that Sirius called Ginny and Hermione to talk. And when the two entered his room, they noticed that Sirius had an excited energy to him, some sort of life other than anger and looming depression in him.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"Alright, it's been a few days and I think you're clear of Dumbledore's suspicion for the time being, so I can tell you about my letter and what I found out."

Hermione was definitely curious, as she wasn't the only one to notice Sirius acting… well, more serious, after Harriet left. He'd become adversarial and confrontational with Dumbledore and most of the Order, and was wrestling back control of his house from Mrs. Weasley. The most drastic change however was him starting to act like the head of his House, starting to become more… like a Black in actions and practice rather than in name alone.

Dumbledore of course disapproved, but, showing his new backbone, Sirius held firm in this new direction, bending only slightly if need be.

"Well… basically Harriet gave me a verbal wake up slap," Sirius chuckled, both amused and embarrassed. "She pointed out that even though I hated it, I am the head of the Black family, and me refusing to take up the lordship has closed so many doors for me –such as a greater chance that I could've gotten a trial, even if I was from a dark family. She pointed out that even my dearest cousin, Bellatrix, got a trial, but not me. And also… she shook me out of my blind respect for Dumbledore." Hermione found herself nodding in relatable agreement with that last statement.

"Her last words… and the letter made me take a hard look at myself… and I found that I was a shell of a man –in a different way than I was in and after… Azkaban…" he said with a shiver. That name had replaced Voldemort's for drawing the most response out of him. "There, everything was sucked out by those… _things_. But after, I was a will-less human, unable to stand up for myself when I needed to –when it counted. No more. I need to change. Harriet told me that I could change the House of Black without 'spitting' on everything about it. That my loathing of my family blinded me to the benefits of having family magics at my beck and call.

"Not to say that I'll use them all," he added, heading off any worries. "Some are… just too repulsive… _black_ magics, not just dark magic. Some things should be forgotten… but, not everything."

He shook his head, and his expression livened, getting off of a heavy topic. "Anyways. So I've re-read her letter many times over, trying to get everything out of it that I could. But I noticed something that was a bit different in a couple of lines. Here, I'll read them out to you," he offered before pulling out said letter. Hermione noticed there seemed to be more writing on it than before, which was odd.

 _"You are Sirius Black of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black,"_ Sirius read aloud. _"The lordship is yours by_ blood, _so I suggest you use it. If you do, the_ writing _is locked in place, so to speak by Magic itself –not laws."_

Sirius looked up at the two expectantly. To no ones surprise, Hermione spoke first. "I assume that because you emphasized certain words that they mean something?"

"Yes! Probably if I showed you the letter sooner you would've figured it out, being the smartest witch in a generation," he added with a roguish smile, making Hermione blush at the complement. "But as it is, I figured out the wordplay yesterday and only now had the opportunity to inform you of this."

"Alright, but what does it mean, since it seems you've figured it out," Ginny asked impatiently.

"Well, the two words on paper are in bold, which gives it away," Sirius said, some of his enthusiasm dimming.

Hermione only took a second to realize it. "Blood writing," she said uneasily. Ginny sucked in a breath, personal experience allowing her to be familiar with that brand of magic, having been forced to slice her fingers and write on Hogwart's walls whilst possessed by Tom Riddle's diary.

"Yes," Sirius nodded gravely. "It seems ritual magic wasn't the only thing Harriet learned here. Something I wish weren't the case…" Hermione however caught the change. _Before he would have gone on a rant about how those books should be destroyed. Now he's silent, only remorseful over that Harriet learned it. That it's here –that it exists- hasn't come up yet. I guess he has taken what she wrote to heart._

"But anyway… I know a tiny bit about magics like that… unavoidable considering my mum. I dropped my blood on the letter and… well… here you go," Sirius said, showing them the letter.

 _Congratulations, you figured it out. Guess you can teach an old dog old tricks. I jest; I know I'm not the best at jokes (that's what the twins are for). I know you are smart and intelligent, and the Marauder in you is still strong. If you are reading this, then that means you've grown a backbone against Dumbledore and kept the letter, in addition to figuring out the blood writing._

 _I want you to share this section with Hermione and Ginerva/Ginny. You've gotten the important parts, and once they get their letters, they'll fill you in on the rest of it._

 _And yes, there are other letters. Classic misdirection: I left behind fake copies that I assume Dumbledore has already taken under some asinine reasoning, and kept the real ones safe for recovery when you figure out this second part. I've wrote it in the actual letters already, but I deeply apologize for leaving without making proper goodbyes. But as you're well aware, it wasn't worth the risk. Plausible deniability. If you have no information, no information could be gleamed from you. But since I'm gone, what I have to say makes no difference. No one can bring me back now._

 _On that note, I asked Kreacher to seal the library. You need to prove to him that you aren't being ordered by Bumbledore to open it, and that you intend to bring the Black family back to it's rightful place – or something like that. Be nice to him as I actually found him useful. It's all in making see that it's for the benefit of the family, and he'll do anything._

 _The letters are in my desk in my room. The desk is a Black desk and can only be opened by one with the right phrase. I'll let you guess which one it is._

 _There's a couple of gifts for you two as well._

 _-H.P_

There was a pause, then Ginny excitedly turned to Hermione and exclaimed, "I _knew_ there were letters!"

Hermione and Sirius chuckled, then they all went upstairs to open the desk.

"So, which phrase is it?" Ginny asked once they were there.

Sirius smirked. "Oh I know. I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he said directly at the desk.

…

"Maybe say it louder?" Ginny suggested sarcastically.

Sirius frowned. "Mischief Managed?"

Still nothing. The desk remained sealed.

"What? But… she said the right phrase! I used it!" Sirius started to get upset.

Hermione frowned, thinking over the wording of Harriet's letter. "Sirus… she said it was a Black desk. So if she didn't change the lock-phrase, then is should be something the Black's would use," she reasoned.

Sirius gave an uncomfortable grimace, like he smelled rotten eggs, but intoned monotonously, "Toujours Pur."

There was a click, and then the desk popped open. Lifting up the cover more revealed two sealed envelopes with Hermione and Ginny's name on either one. Each girl took their letter, but discovered something under them. There were two sheaths with black leather handles sticking out of them.

"These are… knives?" Hermione asked, picking up one. Pulling out the knife, the whole blade was one piece of bone, carved to a razor edge. Under the light, it looked like there was something glistening along the edge, but it was faint.

Ginny suddenly gasped which drew Hermione and Sirius' attention. "I… I know what these are made out of…" She shakily said. "These… are made from the Basilisk's fangs…"

Both Hermione and Sirius echoed Ginny's earlier gasp and looked at the knives with new appreciation. "The craftsmanship… no, the effort needed to make a knife that has the most deadly venom in existence… You better make sure not to touch the blade," Sirius warned them.

"Done," Hermione quickly agreed and shoved the knife back into the sheath as if it were… well, poisonous. She stuck the sheath into her back pants pocket as Ginny put hers in her robes, then they both opened their letters and began reading.

"I'll be waiting in my room when you're done," Sirius said softly, recognizing this would be a private moment for the two, and left soon after. The two continued reading their letters, becoming more and more shocked and uneasy as they read, but strangely resolute and agreeing with what was written…

* * *

It was some time later that the three of them reconvened in Sirius' room where they wouldn't be disturbed. "Sooo… I assume that your letters are about the same as mine?" Sirius opened up, looking at their shocked faces.

"First opening up about her relations to us and how she kinda manipulated us, then apologizing for it while pointing out it made us better witches?" Ginny started.

"Then how Harriet was urging us to break completely away from Dumbledore since he's a manipulative old man that only looks out for his own goals?" Hermione rhetorically asked.

"Or how she logically pointed out the Wizarding world is doomed to fall to it's own pig-headedness and corruption by the elite and inability to adapt and think for itself in addition to the overly light bias that would destroy magical ballance?" Ginny picked up after her.

"Or how she basically implied that unless things change and we start our own revolution we'll end up either dead under Voldemort or essentially brainwashed under Dumbledore?"

"Yeah… pretty much that… Dear Merlin we almost sounded like the twins right then," Ginny groaned and flopped heavily into a chair.

Hermione wanted to do the same, the letters hitting home hard. "She called us out. She could see us, figured us out and then how to _use_ us in a way we _agreed_ with. The way she put it we really can't be too mad with her, and that in of itself is… aggravating. And with these letters, she backed us into a corner where we _have_ to do this now, because if we don't it'll eat at us forever."

Sirius stood up and approached, putting a hand on her shoulder. "In the short time that I knew my Goddaughter, I figured out she knew people well –as in how to get them to do things and read their actions- but didn't _understand_ people. How emotions and thoughts aren't entirely malleable… aren't toys to mess with, that we are our own people. I could see that, but refused to understand what I saw… and in all honesty, even if I did, I would've tried to change her back to what I thought she should be. And if I had, she would've tuned me out and marked me on her blacklist…"

After a short silence, Ginny spoke up. "She wasn't wrong however. Yes, she made us see some unpleasant truths about ourselves… but who wouldn't react badly to seeing the worst in ourselves… And… inside I knew that the wizarding world wasn't all it was cracked up to me. Heh… look at me. Born and raised in magic and yet I… I hate it. I hate how we think we're superior to muggles when we haven't had any major accomplishments in decades –maybe even centuries! I hate the bigotry that's accepted as unavoidable, inevitable, and unchangeable. It's unchangeable because everyone accepts that it is! And Magic! Magic is so incredible, yet the Ministry and Dumbledore are stifling it, shutting down avenues of approach because 'it's too dangerous' or 'too dark'! And that reasoning is what could strangle magic forever!

"With the diary, I told Harriet that it could write back to me and offered up some interesting spells. She urged me to learn all I could… but after she found out how that turned out, she… apologized in her own way without really saying it and made an effort to right her mistake. That's more than what other adults did. That's more than what my family did! Just Dumbledore saying that I'm fine and they accept that, ignoring the fact that it was bloody teenage Voldemort possessing me and that I was visibly scared by the ordeal…

"And Hermione," Ginny suddenly turned to her. "You should despise the wizarding world for what it's done to you. Muggleborns like you enter in and are beaten down by those in power, those that are _protected_. And if someone steps up and says 'no' to the abuse, you never see them again. I hate it, and I want that to stop." Her eyes were glistening, tremulous emotions erupting after the incidents of the last few days… last few years all coming to a head.

 _Ginny's had it worse than most,_ Hermione thought. _Being born into a poor family as the only daughter has put a lot of expectations that no one really understands on her, and it's compounded that they're considered 'Blood Traitors' and everyone looks down on them despite how hard working they are… most of them,_ she amended, thinking of Ron. _Then in her first year of magical training she gets possessed by the spirit of a dark lord for the entirety of the year with no one, except Harriet, really noticing or doing anything, even after it's over…_

Hermione sighed. "Things need to change. Harriet saw that but knew she couldn't do anything without immediate opposition… or being stopped before she could do anything."

"She made a selfish decision," Sirius said, "but for once, she deserved to take one. She made the groundwork and trusts us to continue her vision… though what it is, I don't rightly know yet."

"Equality," Ginny immediately jumped in. "Elimination of the prejudices that plague our world."

"Yes, but that's not all. Harriet isn't here anymore so it's up to us to shape our future. As you said," Hermione said to Sirius, "she gave us some overall goals. She laid the groundwork. We just have to build the house," she said with a smirk.

Sirius frowned, thinking. "This will not be easy. She's asking so much from us that I don't know I can do. But… we owe it to her to try. If it weren't for her, and you Hermione," he added, "I would be a husk thanks to those… creatures."

"If it weren't for her, I would be dead. My life, my soul, my magic stolen away by that… shade," Ginny said.

"If it weren't for her, I would've died thanks to that troll… and if I survived that, I would've become another mindless pawn. To Dumbledore, or the Ministry… to authority," Hermione concluded.

"So… I guess it's up to us to start a full-scale revolution and get magic back on track," Sirius said with a glint in his eyes. "Sounds like the best sort of prank against all those codgers that ruined my life by sending me to Azkaban. I'm in."

"I as well," Ginny said.

Hermione nodded, and then a funny thought came to her that made her snort. "I wonder how many revolutions were planned like this? Three people stuck in a decrepit house, two of which are underage, plotting to overthrow the leaders and the social norms of an entire culture?" There was a couple chuckles, but looming over them was the weight of what they've just decided to do.

 _With this, they changed their destiny from what was, to something no one could predict or foresee. The ripples of what Harriet left will turn into a raging tidal wave that will shape the Earth into something… different. Who knows what the future will hold?_

* * *

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* * *

There was silence.

The usually busy office was still as all the golden trinkets that lined the shelves had fallen silent and still.

Sitting at an ornate desk with a bird perch next to it (with no avian present) was an old, long-bearded man wearing purple and gold robes. He had his wizened hands holding up his head as he stared at the newspaper in front of him, displaying the now-common sensational headline muddying his name.

He sighed and then sat up straight in his luxurious chair, once again reviewing how things had gotten so far out of hand and whether he could get anything back on track.

Dumbledore wondered what misstep he'd taken that drove Harriet away from the Wizarding world… and from this world in fact, if his own research from his extensive private library was to be believed… as well as his sole contact in the Unspeakables.

 _It's unfortunate that Harriet was smart and crafty, being able to elude my more conventional tracking methods. I have no doubts the Goblins somehow disabled the tracking charm on her glasses - which was a major hindrance. And her going into Gringotts unsupervised…_ he shuddered to think what her reaction might have been to finding out the situation of her finances. _While her letter didn't state it, no doubt she learned of my withdrawals during her meeting._

Dumbledore knew it was legalized theft that, while it would hold up in court, his image as a caring, eccentric grandfather would dive rather spectacularly even among his supporters. It was a necessary evil, for despite how he disliked stealing from both the dead and a child, money made the government run and vigilante groups stay active. He reasoned it to himself that Harriet was not going to survive this conflict and all those Galleons would be lost to everyone save the Goblins – so why not use them? He alleviated the guilt with the knowledge that he didn't keep any of it in his own vaults (ignoring the fact that he could pull it out of the various vaults that received it if needed).

Trying to move off of that thought, he grimaced at the sight of one of her letters lying on his desk, specifically the one for Mr. Ronald Weasley. The language used was… very descriptive and colorful to say the least, and it cemented Harriet's distain (putting it mildly) towards the youngest male Weasley.

Just thinking about that made him wince again. It was one of his less thought-out plans, but on the off chance that Harriet _did_ survive, he wanted her tied with a Light-oriented family that preferably was under his guidance. The Weasley family was one of his most fervent supporters and with so many children and thankless jobs (or extremely high risk ones, like William and Charlie worked), they didn't have much in the way of money. Having Harriet married into the family would be a benefit to the Light and the Weasleys.

But around Harriet's second year, Dumbledore decided to give up on forcing the two together –not helped by Ronald's attitude, which was off-putting to even him! But in this case, Ronald was… it was difficult to tell him no. Unfortunately Ron had gotten it into his head that he and Harriet were to be together (he didn't know about the contract, which was for the best), and nothing would change that –not even the small stipend he had been getting revoked. But now, that contract he pushed Molly into signing was probably going to come back to haunt him.

Many things seemed to be doing that now, as Harriet's words were taunting him, reminding him of his faults and failings. He had already seen a friend and a promising student fall, seduced by dark magic.

That wizarding war, which matched the muggle's second World War, had scarred Dumbledore. He was an educator, a teacher, a philosopher at heart despite the lofty goals he and Gellert once had. So upon rousing himself to fight his friend due to the stories he heard of the terrors unleashed, he found reality was far, far worse.

After he defeated his old friend, Dumbledore returned as a British hero and had all these positions thrust on him by a willing public. He had been tempted to reject them, but upon seeing what had happened on the continent, he acquiesced. Now, he became a politician by necessity.

As he grew accustomed to his positions, he realized that it was for the best. So many others who've held power couldn't see the larger picture. Magical Britain stayed out of the war even as Muggle bombs rained down on the cities, and a blind eye was turned until it became too much, the horrors and atrocities too close.

It was for the best, the 'Greater Good' that he thought he'd abandoned, that he had to change the world: because no one else was stepping up to do so. If things had continued, the Wizarding world would still be ensnared in dark magic.

Despite all the positions he had, and the laws he could make, the only one that really mattered was the Headmastery of Hogwarts, where he could start to change the minds of the future generations, to make the Wizarding World a better place, free from dark magic. It's one thing to tell someone they can't do a 'thing', it's another to teach them to despise the 'thing': the 'thing' being dark magic.

But it seemed the general ignorance of what dark magic was, or rather what they perceived it to be, was deeply ingrained in wizarding society. Darker and more conservative families pushed back against the changes Dumbledore sought to make. Many further cemented their holds and dug their heels in, blind to the true realities of dark magic, unwilling to change. Dumbledore did his best, but it was slow going. Slowly he realized that he would need more political clout to make real change.

And then Tom Riddle started calling himself Voldemort.

Dumbledore had seen the potential young Tom had, though he was partially skeptical due to Tom's Parseltongue ability –an inherently dark skill. But, he was hopeful for his future to take up the mantle Dumbledore wanted him to, directed along the path set for him.

But Tom veered from it drastically, resisting his guidance, delving deep into the dark arts. He had hoped that Tom would eventually see the error in following dark magic once he realized the risks and sacrifices needed to use it - but that wasn't the case, especially after poor Myrtle's demise. He kept a closer eye on his movements, but Tom was able to cover his tracks well enough until he was out of Hogwarts.

Then, when he reemerged, he became the figurehead, promoter, and leader of the dark, the antithesis of what Dumbledore was fighting for. And the worst was that Tom was powerful. Laws do not have much of an effect on the magically strong, who could ignore them at leisure, which is why Dumbledore strived to uphold them and create new ones to prevent wizards from learning dark magic. Only he knew best.

The Purebloods of magical society were the backbone of it, and when Volemort recruited so many of them to his cause, it made Dumbledore's life harder to keep them safe. Killing was an act of evil and destroyed the soul. It happened with Arianna… and still he felt her death, the pain, despite not knowing still who threw the curse that ended her life. After then, he swore never to kill, to never cast with the intent to. Unless it was the last and only option –and he'd gotten good at creating new options often.

With so many Muggleborn and half-bloods being Voldemort's target, in addition to 'blood traitors', it was natural to recruit them and easier to change their views – showing that dark magic (represented by Voldemort in the metaphor) would destroy them and that the Light side was the right way.

So after years of stalemate, with Voldemort nearing his apparent victory despite Dumbledore's efforts, it all changed during one interview and a prophesy. And that made him even more concerned.

Someone as strong as Tom that would 'vanquish' him? He worried too much that history would repeat itself and another Dark Lord would rise soon after the previous, this time with the public backing them. Too many times powerful people in history had turned dark. So when he learned which child Voldemort was fixated on, he acted.

He persuaded the Potters to go under the Fidelius Charm and make Peter the secret keeper, suspecting he was the traitor. He approved of their using Sirius as a distraction, but when the sun rose after Halloween, he was confused for a time when Sirius was declared the actual traitor after killing those muggles at Peter. It was out of character for Sirius, and with a lack of Pettigrew among the muggle corpses, the guilt seemed evident. There had been plenty of talk of Lily being able to change secret keepers, as they weren't too keen on Pettigrew becoming the secret keeper in the first place, and with the growing chasm between the Potters and himself, it was possible they had managed a switch without him knowing.

Dumbledore hadn't been in England at the time, as he was trying to smooth things over with the I.C.W. now that Tom had been driven away for the time being. With Black in Azkaban already, he decided to not look into it at all, since it suited his needs perfectly. It was easy enough to seal the Potter's wills and establish himself as her Magical Guardian, consolidate the Potter's Wizengamot seats into his own collective, and legalize his decision to place her with the Dursleys. There were a few hours of underhanded actions however before everything settled down, through which Dumbledore worried he would not finish his plan.

Harriet couldn't be raised with a wizarding family, otherwise they could influence her -and not him- and possibly drag the entire family into the dark. She needed to be beaten down (however distasteful he found that step) so she would latch onto Light sided families, allowing him to build her up into a paragon of the Light. And she couldn't have too much power (knowledge and politically) when she wasn't ready –and he solely would determine when she was. And she couldn't have too much money, which is the thing that makes the government move, and also how families/people gain influence. That was something she couldn't have.

The fame of being the Girl-Who-Lived was unavoidable, but he pinned it being on her, rather than what Lily did to protect her daughter. And in the end, it was just an empty title –or rather a target. To that end, it was even better when he saw her scar and found the dark energy from Tom in it. There was no way to remove it, and the only thing that could destroy a Horcrux, aside from true regret from the caster (but that was something Tom wouldn't do without seeing the error of his path) was to destroy the container.

And here Dumbledore hit his conundrum, for he didn't want to kill directly. Thankfully, the prophesy was still in play and gave him an out. Harriet would be raised as a martyr and killed by Voldemort… neither can live while the other survives…

At first it seemed that his plan was going well. Harriet had come to Hogwarts incredibly shy and very much alone with no pre-conceived notions about the wizarding world, and while immediately disdainful of Ronald Weasley, she had made a few acquaintances with her fellow Gryffindors. With his occasional touch, he was sure she looked up to him. She had even successfully completed her trial with Voldemort and Flamel's stone, banishing the spirit of Tom once again.

However, second year was when it started going down hill.

Even Dumbledore was astounded by how antagonistic her fellow students were to her about her Parseltongue ability, and if he wasn't standing by his rule of non-interference he would've intervened when some students committed nastier acts. Then his plan seemed to falter when Harriet would respond in kind with either equal ferocity or aloofness, rather than try to convince them of her innocence or be desperate to earn their adoration again –or even just stay silent and take it.

His plan to isolate her had seemed to backfire, where instead of trying to gain their acceptance, she ignored them equally. Dumbledore needed her to willingly give her life for the betterment of the Wizarding world, hopefully with her wishing that in death they would give her the recognition they didn't in life. She had proven that she would rather stand apart and look on, rather than give it her all to protect it.

But he still held hope that she could be salvaged, for she showed no signs of becoming a dark lady… just general apathy which could be changed.

Her third year muddied things even more with the escape of Sirius and the re-emergence of Pettigrew. Finding out Sirius was indeed innocent was difficult to swallow, since Sirius wanted to gain custody of Harriet. He was all set to have Sirius Kissed, but saw a way to win back some of Harriet's trust and gave Miss Granger a hint about her time-turner to save Sirius, but at the cost of him remaining a fugitive. That way he both won back some of her trust, and kept Sirius from being able to disrupt his plans.

Fourth year was yet another tremulous year, but with much less unexpected twists. Once he figured out Tom's endgame, everything else became easier, with helping Barty Crouch Jr. complete his master's plot. Honestly, it was so convoluted and required so many specific variables that it would've failed many times over if he hadn't helped… for a time, Dumbledore wondered if Tom had lost his touch. That was not the case in the end however.

He needed Tom resurrected in order for him to be either contained until he repented, or destroyed once his soul-anchors were gone. The question became how long did he have and how many anchors were there?

But now…

Now. Everything changed.

 _"Oh yes, I am as dark as you feared."_

Those words haunted his thoughts, along with those yellow burning eyes –not unlike Tom's. _Did she really feel that she had to attempt such a ritual? Because of me trying to guide her to her destiny?_ Her letter said as much, and gave him her specific reasoning. In it she described exactly what made her leave: a thankless public, a corrupt and bigoted government directed by extremists, and –most importantly- his own meddling in her life that made her break away.

It was frightening how much she guessed was dead on if not close to the mark. She refused to be a martyr and a pawn, which was unfortunate. And now she had run away from her destiny.

Dumbledore had spent many hours looking over his memories, trying to see what that ritual entailed. The lines and runes of the ritual were burned and blurred in his viewings, making it so that he unfortunately couldn't read them without intense study and crosschecking the countless amount of runes that existed with barely any starting point. Not without time.

If only he could get into the Black Library where undoubtedly such dark books were where she learned how to do such a thing. Once he knew the steps, he could backtrack and reverse them, to call Harriet back.

Harriet needed to return and complete her destiny. The prophesy couldn't be ignored. Fate can't be changed. The world needed to rise to a new era free from all dark magics. Dumbledore would see it through…

Harriet would fulfill her destiny…

* * *

xxxxxxxxxx

xxxxxxxxxx

* * *

 _Destiny. Fate. A power that is believed to determine what the future will be._

 _Destiny is an interesting concept. Paradoxical, yet logical; static, yet constantly in flux. Some think of it as an unavoidable end that their lives and actions lead up to. To the pessimist or believer's eyes it's an inescapable outcome no matter what you do. Others believe that their destiny, their fate is what they make of it; that ultimately it's flexible -malleable._

 _No true answer is ready for the questions that are asked. The best one may get is, "Well… it depends…" And in truth, it does._

 _It depends on the person, their beliefs, their thoughts, their character. It depend on the scenario, the variables that are presented, the actions leading up to the present. It depends on what others think, for they may believe in one version while another believes another interpretation is correct. They may try to influence the outcome, to bring about a certain result._

 _There are so many details and variables that it is nearly impossible to get a straight 'yes' or 'no' answer._

 _Destiny. Fate. An inevitable or predetermined end._

 _There is one thing that can counter Fate. One thing that can change Destiny._

 _Free Will._

 _All beings have it, and it allows them control over their lives. This unseen force gives us power to decide for ourselves, rather than having to accept a certain outcome. Most only use it for small things, things that overall may minutely change how the end happens –but not the end itself. But for a few, they wrestle their Free Will from Destiny's grasp and forge a new path –going off script so to speak. These chosen few will create a future; one in which from Fate they'll_ rise.

 _That being said, Fate can change. Adapt. Re-write itself into something suitable for its designs._

 _For 'common' folk, Destiny has little interest in them, for in the long run they amount largely to meaningless clutter. But for those who are born in Fate's eye –the gems in the dirt- then the harder they fight it, the harder Destiny resists. If they deny Destiny, then it will compensate for their desperate machinations to return to the desired end. It may remind them that it reigns supreme over mortal lives._

 _One can only push Fate and Destiny so far before it pushes back._

 _It's a constant battle between Fate and Free Will._

 _Harriet Potter will seek to change her Fate._

 _She may succeed._

 _Or maybe her Destiny is set in stone._

 _She does not believe in Destiny, but Destiny definitely will try to force her along a path it has laid out._

 _But will she step on it? If only for a moment?_

 _Destiny. Fate. A power that is believed to determine what the future will be. An inevitable or predetermined end._

 _I've laid out my thoughts, created a debate. Now I ask you…_

...

Do you believe in destiny?

...

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 **XXXXXXXXXX**

* * *

 **Let me start off by saying that this isn't the chapter I wanted to write, but needed to be written - and what I ended up writing wasn't what I originally set out to write. I didn't want it to be as long as it ended up (and I'll probably edit it later) but it could've been longer. I originally wanted to write out everyone's letter like I did with Nevile's... but 8,000 words in I found that it would've added too much to this chapter (and it, as it is, is already has more than I wanted), so and I think I found the best compromise.**

 **If you want my commentary, keep reading. Otherwise, skip to the next 'XXXXXXXXXX'**

* * *

 **Alright, now for some of the reasons why it took so long.**  
 **#1: I knew this would be a chapter I necessarily didn't want to write but had to be written just to finish off the Earth segment for a while, and I think that bled over into my lack of motivation/inspiration. I lollygaged hard on this, and with the first several chapters coming out (for me) one after the other, I suffered a little bit of burn out back then.**  
 **1a. Plus, I was distracted by several other story ideas that I'm still writing (like at least 15 stories I want to write/have started on, but haven't gotten around to any dedicated writing) and still need to update. Thanks to my bad time management skills, I tried to work on everything while accomplishing very little.**

 **#2: College finals last school year hit me hard. They really dragged me through the ringer and since I'm now on the quarter system, it felt like I was still recovering from the last set of finals before I was doing them again! All motivation for _anything_ was drained out of me.**

 **#3: I started my own Youtube channel and started reacting to Fairy Tail. To my surprise, editing 2 or 3 (sometimes 4) episodes at a time really takes a lot of time. And since I'm already bad at time management, it compounded the problem.**

 **#4: Volume 4 of RWBY threw a lot of curveballs, and quite honestly I found it lacking in many aspects. Too many storylines felt (to me) half told and there was no consistent timeframe which really threw me off because I like a sequential show, or at least some sort of timeframe, and in the show, they tell us that a few weeks (or months) have passed without showing it and/or the characters really adapting to their new reality. Sometimes it felt like a few weeks after V3, and others too much time had passed (or said was passed). The only two main characters I felt had the best story arcs were Blake and then Yang -and with Yang I felt it wasn't enough and that she 'got over' her arm too quickly/easily, once again the fault of the time skip. Volume 5 so far kinda shows us she's still not over her trauma and that's good (and V5 is very promising right now). But overall, Volume 4, while sounding and looking amazing, felt like Volume 4a and I was left hanging for Volume 4b.**

* * *

 **Okay, now for some in-depth "The Making Of" commentary.**

 **This chapter was written all over the place. Some of it was written immediately following he last chapter, some written off and on over the months in-between, the last 6,000-ish written within the last month (some of it in the last few days) and the last section about Destiny was mostly written before the last half of this chapter whenever I was bored in class and started writing in my iPhone notes. After such a long break, I had a half written chapter that I needed to read (in addition to what I had already written) just to get back on track.**

 **Another reason why this took a while is that halfway through, I realized I had been writing Hermione completely different than I had previously portrayed her. So I had to re-write everything from when Dumbledore first makes his appearance, to the beginning of her part. I had started writing her as if she was completely in Harriet's confidence, which when I re-read what I wrote to get back into the story, wasn't the case. Hermione up until that moment still held a bit of respect for Dumbledore and authority, much like cannon, but had severe doubts that Harriet pointed out to her. When Dumbledore confiscated their letters, that was the moment Hermione needed to see the other side of the veil and break free from her previous misconceptions.**

 **This chapter deals with a lot of people's reactions and flawed perspectives. Some realize they don't have the full picture and want to know, others see enough and want to change it according to their perspectives. Harriet made sure that her ideas would continue on through her friends (even if she didn't see them that way, or knew they were friends). Despite her saying that she wants nothing to do with the wizarding world, she does still care about it and wants things right -or at least what she considers right. And also as a spiteful parting gift for those in charge.**

 **Everyone has a flawed perspective... even Harriet to a degree. Some things she's right about, but some things she misunderstands or gets wrong.**

 **Moving on: Dumbledore. He needs a section for himself...**  
 **I've seen every fan fiction variation of Dumbledore there is, from cannon Dumbledore, to actual good Dumbledore, to manipulative Dumbledore who is the best mastermind to ever live and has manipulated everything to how he wants it, to totally evil off-his-rockers Dumbledore. My Dumbles is a bit of a mix. He believes that he's good and he's doing good by eliminating dark magic, which in-of itself isn't necessarily a bad thing. But he's taken it to the extreme with the total subjugation of it and the belief that only he knows what's best. And what he's seen only confirms it. My Dumbledore was scarred by what he's seen during the war and has gone the complete opposite direction, and his experiences with politics have only proven to him that most are inept at their jobs for allowing such things to happen.**

 **My Dumbledore is only human, and as such is a hypocrite. He's said that no one should have so much power because they'll misuse it, but _he_ does, and believes he won't -even though he has, and then absolves himself by thinking it's or the best, or for the 'Greater Good'. He believes Dark Magic should be eliminated and only Light Magic can be used, without realizing that there needs to be balance. That theme will come up a lot later. He despises the steps he's taken, but does them anyway. He hasn't truly learned from his mistakes and has only improved his inherently flawed methods (which ironically makes them even more flawed.)**

 **Basically, he's not evil per-sé in this story, but massively flawed which makes him an unwitting antagonist.**

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 **Alright, with that long ass authors note over...**

 **Since the last update I've doubled the previous favorites, now over 600, so thank you all! Especially those that keep messaging me, asking if I'm alive (which I am now). I like to respond to messages via PM's rather than use more space in the chapters for replies -mainly because I've seen stories where some chapters are half replies to reviewers. Course, it makes it difficult to respond to guest reviews, but oh well.**

 **So with this long chapter out of the way, I can get to writing some more interesting (to me) parts of the story. Which means getting back to Harriet/Cinder, who's always a pleasure to write... :D**

 **Also, check out my Youtube channel under the same username of OrangeGalen. I'm having a lot of trouble with getting RWBY reactions not blocked, so mainly it's Fairy Tail stuff.**

 **That reminds me: don't ask me to write Fairy Tail fan fiction. I'm only on episode 64, and there's too much crap in FT to write about now (also I'm not even halfway to halfway done with it). In the distant future, I may have a RWBYxFairy Tail fan fiction, as I have an idea for a crossover, but like I said, it's a long time coming if ever. **

**Alright, so this chapter's also coming out in the morning because it's been too long and I don't want to keep you all waiting, but in the future I like to update this in the evening. I have a plan in my mind to update _RWBHY: The Aura Mage_ in the mornings and _Rise_ in the evenings as like a day/night contrast between the two versions of Harry/Harriet. Hopefully with this chapter up I'll find more motivation to write _RWBHY_ again -I've not given up on it yet! **

**Okay, so don't forget to Read, Review, Favorite, and Follow! (R.R.F.F)**  
 **Until next time, with hopefully a real update for _On The Road, Far From Home,_**

 **-OrangeGalen**


	6. Arrival

**Umm... has it really been a year? Damn, umm... I'm sorry about that. Half of it could probably be attributed to my innate laziness and poor time management, but also just finishing college, college itself, summer camp job, life, and making regular videos for my youtube channel really didn't let for me to write.**

 **Until now.**

 **I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD EVERYONE!**

 **I'll try to be more present in writing now, but as I've learned I'm dog-shit at keeping promises, so that's the best I can leave you with. That and a 6,000 word chapter.**

 **I'm in the process of editing the previous chapters, and have done up to Ch3 right now. As of the moment, nothing major has changed -mainly it's just me making it look better and clearing up a few inconsistencies/grammar errors. I'll probably hit on Chapter 5 the hardest, especially Dumbledore's segment, but I'll tell you I don't plan to change anything major -probably just clarify some ideas and motivations by re-writing some things.  
-These edits won't be necessary to read at all, I'm doing it for me mainly.  
-I'll probably edit this chapter in the future as well for errors. (I'm sure they're there, hiding, waiting...)**

 **So now, a year after the last chapter (0.0), here's Chapter 6 - Arrival**

 **And as usual check the bottom for more AN's.**

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 **Obvious disclaimer: I do not own RWBY or Harry Potter.**

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Arrival was something Harriet anticipated.

The act of traveling and actually _landing_ … not so much.

Magical travel had never cooperated properly with her. Portkeys were a menace, always throwing her on the ground in an undignified heap when gravity violently reasserted itself. For Floo travel, while she wasn't uncomfortable with walking into flames (which is strange as it's against natural human instinct), it constantly shot her out at disorientingly high speeds, trying its damnedest to make her slide out on her back. The saving grace of Floo was she eventually learned to stay upright upon exit.

The only two methods that she was fine with were apparition and booms. She figured it had something to do with the fact that both worked under the intention of being all about the self –something she desired to have full control of. Apparition especially was solely about the self, with the three D's taught, so she didn't have to rely on external forces working with her. Admittedly with brooms, they had the downside of being open to tampering when someone/thing tried to control it whilst she was on it. But usually she had full control over the broom.

All other magical travel needed to rely on something else to work, and they all apparently hated her.

So in retrospect, she should've known that traveling via ritual magic would follow the trend.

Oh the ritual worked, but the pain was neither expected nor welcome. Every nerve in her body lit up with magical overload from the arcane forces battering her. It was something that she couldn't fully anticipate. Harriet vastly underestimated it – and even that was understating it. Her body felt like it was trying to dissolve from the inside-out. Each individual cell was jostling, crawling, just _that_ far away from unbinding and completely disintegrating her corporeal form. She felt like she was dying. The pain was _more_ than the Cruciatus curse.

Nonetheless, her failsafe worked as intended.

The shard of Flamel's stone remained clutched in her left hand. Its magic was drained, now merely being another rock - its purpose served. The magical energy had activated through her bloodstream, continually restoring Harriet's body, fighting against the ritualistic forces warring to destroy her very essence. It's magic was enough to contain herself together.

However, there was a time limit. There was only so much magic it held: a literal shard of its whole potential. Eventually it would run out and she would be erased from existence… or worse.

But it didn't need to last forever, just long enough for her to arrive.

Abruptly, the chaos ended.

The pain took a different form when her face forcefully reacquainted itself with the ground. Physics and it's application upon a moving body with moderate velocity caused her to fully bounce, and then roll in an uncontrolled jumble, before coming to a merciful, yet still painful, halt.

Molten yellow eyes stared up at a blue sky through tree leaves, unseeing. Her mind was in shambles from sensory overload, unable to leave the state of being completely and utterly summarized by the word: ow. Her throat ached and scratched, every inch of her felt sore, she was struggling to catch her breath, and…

And…

She never felt more ecstatic.

"It… it worked…" Harriet finally croaked, her lips pealing back into a gleeful smile. "It worked! Hah! _Hahahaha_!" She started laughing from the euphoria coursing through her, even though it hurt and she barely had enough air to continue. But she didn't care. She was free! And she would bloody well keep laughing for as long as it suited her.

Eventually she stopped, merely content now to gaze upwards into that sapphire sky above, briefly checking her surroundings. She was no longer in a grassy plain surrounded by the standing stones of Stonehenge. A forest was her current environment. An already wide smile widened.

"I'm free… I'm free…" _I'm free from manipulative headmasters. Free from 'dark lords'. Free from corrupt ministries. I'm free to do whatever I want, to get whatever I want – whatever I desire…_ She chuckled once more before rolling over slowly and gently worked herself off of the ground on unsteady legs, groaning and hissing escaping her mouth unbidden from the residual pain.

Harriet reoriented herself before searching for her wand, finding it in the grass next to a familiar stone fragment. As she grabbed her wand, she inspected the stone. It was coal black, and when she picked it up a few flakes crumbled off. "Well, that's the end of that," Harriet muttered and then absentmindedly flicked the once precious magical stone over her shoulder into the woods, not bothering to see where it landed.

 _Now, time to get to business._ Harriet had a plan for when she arrived. She had no idea what to expect or what dangers looked, so she had to be on guard. First was to find some sort of intelligent life and hope they were both A: humanoid and B: able to speak. Not that she would have an issue if she were to meet aliens (though technically _she_ would be the alien in this case –a discussion for another time) but Harriet was unashamed to admit she would prefer humanoids to blob creatures... or spiders. Thankfully, any potential language barrier wouldn't be much of an issue thanks to the translation charm. While said charm is initially complex and requires a certain level of mental discipline (which was why many English witches and wizards don't/can't use it) once one managed it, it becomes easy to cast with practice.

And Harriet was certainly not lacking in the brains department.

Going back to finding intelligent life, one of the best ways to find it was to find their homes. Their towns. Their cities.

In other words: Civilization.

Harriet held her wand in the palm of her hand and silently commanded the spell to point her North. The wand turned before pointing lightly ahead-left. Her next command was to civilization. While vague commands such as that were iffy, she didn't have much to work with, so it was better than nothing. The wand spun twice before gradually settling in far right to her. However it wavered, as if still scanning or uncertain. Harriet shrugged to herself, knowing the command was imprecise. _Good enough._ She started walking on unstable legs, still weak from the ritual.

The first leg of her journey was marked with her trying to get her body to start working properly again. The ritual travel took a bit more out of her than she anticipated, so she took it slow, stretching frequently and rubbing her body to stimulate her blood. As time went on, her pace quickened until she felt like she was back in her own body again.

Harriet wasn't idle or solely focused on this though. She was keeping watch and making observations about this new world. The sun above (if this world followed Earth's rotation) hinted it was later in the afternoon, day slowly turning to night. It showed that Harriet had a time limit before she needed to find a suitable place to camp. The terrain was forested and mainly flat, with a few rocky overlooks in the distance and a couple of hills. She'd heard a few birdcalls so at least she knew there was wildlife, though she would keep a close watch for anything threatening.

Knowing she was in a new world with unknown dangers was thrilling. On Earth, the dangers she faced were not of her choosing. In all honesty, she didn't mind too much that Voldemort was trying to kill her: that was his goal (aside from taking over the wizarding world or something), and there was a sense of clarity, of directness, to it. It also added a bit of a challenge, a benchmark, for how strong she needed to get to be at least his equal.

However, it wasn't solely Voldemort she had to contend with.

The added manipulations of Dumbledore meant Harriet didn't have any choice in her life. Never could she fight Voldemort because she desired it, but because she was being forced –groomed to. She never would've had full control over her future if she had stayed, as the old bastard would've twisted every move. Everything she could've done back there would have been watched and probably influenced by his hands –directly or otherwise. Freedom of choice was gone.

Hints and nudges are his preferred method rather than heavy-handed techniques (not that he didn't use them). Though he was more of a hands-off mechanist –as in he created the 'thing', wound it up and let it go, watching and only moving it and obstacles if it were about to fail.

The 'thing', however, was herself and other people. Whole societies even.

Now though… there was no higher power watching everything, testing and challenging her whenever it suited them. No one that could control her life and those around her. It was liberating. It was thrilling to experience life that _she_ was now in control of. Compounded by the fact that she was in a new world with dangers she knew not added to the giddiness she felt.

It was intoxicating, and while normally she would clamp down on the euphoria, a little indulgence could be allowed for her victory.

As she walked, there was a bit of a spring in her step.

Right before her leg cramped from overexertion.

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Time passed and twilight started to creep in, dimming the light.

Harriet was sitting on a bolder in yet another clearing, with her shoes off next to her, rubbing her sore feet, feeling more than a little irritated at herself and her body. _Of all things, I forgot to wear good hiking shoes. Or even half-decent walking shoes. And to make things worse, I completely forgot I could transfigure my shoes into something wearable until an hour or two ago. 'Better late than never' I guess? If only my leg muscles were better off. I would think walking up and down the stairs at Hogwarts would give me a little bit more leg muscle endurance… It's unfortunate I couldn't bring my_ Firebolt _with me, but there was only so much 'excess' magic I could bring without risking destabilization of the ritual._

Aside from her money-purse filled with Galleons, and her wand, the only other magical item was a bottomless-satchel with basic necessities -no magical items in it. Even if they were contained inside, the ritual had a high chance of destabilizing the charms for the satchel if there were other magical items in _. Best-case scenario would've been the satchel imploded and annihilated everything inside the bag. Worst case… well, it's probably best not to think about what could've gone wrong if a bag that's charmed to be bottomless, i.e. infinite, affected a ritual that pierces through the multiverse, which is also theoretically infinite._

 _Those are the dangers of magic they should've taught in school._

Inside said bag, she had all the supplies necessary for at least a week in the wild, courtesy of Kreacher discreetly getting everything on her behalf – including books on magic so she could continue to learn. The books themselves had been checked if they could be transported; all charms and enchantments that could be removed without harming the books were, and anything that had permanent or otherwise active magic that couldn't be lifted were left behind, so now all she had were 'normal' books… albeit with unusual content.

Using the bolder she was currently sitting on as a wall, Harriet had set up her camp – a new experience for her, as she'd obviously never gone camping with the Dursleys (as if they'd do something so primitive), and the only other close example was when she was with the Weasley clan for the Quiddich World Cup. She knew the general concept, but putting it into practice was interesting. Thankfully with magic it was much easier, so she could direct where things needed to go while stretching and massaging her sore muscles and feet.

A small, magically erected one-person tent was to be her shelter for the night (to her minor shame, she couldn't figure out the poles without magic). It wasn't a magically expanded tent, for previously explained reasons, but Harriet didn't mind as she didn't need the space. There was a campfire with a pot of water hanging above it, getting ready to boil. There was also a fold out table and a camping chair for her later when she wanted to eat, along with utensils.

The food was freeze-dried camping food -the 'just add hot water' kind- but she also packed away some fruit before the day of the ritual without anyone at Grimmauld knowing, and once she set up camp she cast some preservation charms on them so they would stay relatively fresh.

However, something she didn't plan for was the soreness she felt. Quiddich and walking up and down Hogwarts' stairs was good for her stamina, but it was a different type of exercise than hiking/walking for a few hours. _At least I don't have one of those heavy backpacks hikers need,_ she thought. _It's the small things._

Rubbing the balls of her feet one last time, she put her transfigured shoes back on and stretched, cracking her neck. _My feet feel a lot better now. I better start working on getting my dinner ready. Chicken Teriyaki with rice, along with some freeze-dry vegtables… I suppose it's not the quality that matters, but how filling it is._ She stood up, and on a whim looked upwards into the sky. Twilight was setting in, but that wasn't what she focused on as she had to do a double-take when a peculiar sight caught her eye. "Is… the moon broken?"

She blinked in surprise. Indeed, here eyes were not deceiving her. Now that it had risen above the tree line and with her elevated position, she could now see this stellar object. A large portion of this world's moon was shattered, with many of the pieces still in close proximity to the moon, apparently orbiting with it. It was an enthralling sight the longer she looked at it, and further proof that she was not on her Earth anymore. _I wonder what caused such a cataclysmic event… A rogue meteor? Or something else? It's certainly bigger than Earth's – either that or it's closer and looks larger._

She stared at it some more, the silver glow of it captivating her before she forced herself to tear her gaze away. She chuckled to herself in amusement at her actions. _One might think I was a werewolf, so enamored I was with the moon._

However, the call of food claimed her attention and she went down to where her cooking pot was to make dinner. Idly following the instructions, Harriet let her mind wander. There wasn't much she could preoccupy herself with, but her jail time with the Dursleys had let her master the art of mind-wandering when there was nothing to do but wait. Either that or count spider webs.

After adding water, while waiting she checked the Point-Me spell and it still roughly pointed in the same direction, maybe a bit more south than before. _So I'm okay on that front. If everything goes well I should be able to find some sort of civilization. I hope they're friendly at least and won't attack me on sight. And also not some strange squid beings,_ she chuckled at the way her thoughts went.

The amusement faded as she gradually crossed her arms, leaning against the bolder as a backrest. _'Course, they might take the old view of me and think I'm a freak… probably would be right in this case_ , she thought, but it didn't make it any easier to consider. _Bloody Dumbledore. Sitting in his gold chair in his high office, eating sweets at his leisure while I was forced under the stairs and had to make by with infrequent scraps. Had to endure beatings and degradation while he lived a life of luxury. Look who's laughing now!_

Huffing, Harriet realized her meal was ready and began eating. While it wasn't the usual Hogwarts fare, it tasted pretty good at the moment. _Right, so after this I need to set up protection wards so nothing interrupts my sleep, and then make sure everything is in order for tomorrow._ Idly summoning the book for basic warding from her pouch, she flipped through the pages, eating as she went. _It's incredible how much self-study I've needed to do, and not just for DADA. Potions, Astronomy, Runes and Arithmancy, History, and then subjects that should be taught in Hogwarts but aren't anymore –such as enchanting and warding. You need to learn about them outside of Hogwarts, almost when it's too late._

 _Probably Dumbledore's fault, though I can't discount the overall failing magic power of Purebloods; probably one too many heirs couldn't get basic passing grades so they changed the tests and material. Also the lack of common sense and critical thinking is largely absent from those that have grown up in magic._

 _Maybe in this world I can finally be the person I want to be. In control, strong, free. All the things I wasn't with Voldemort and Dumbledore looming over me._

 _Don't know why I'm still being so negative,_ she considered, sipping some water. _I don't have to deal with them anymore. I've cut ties with my homeworld. I don't need to worry myself over manipulative headmasters or dark lords. I don't need to worry about the state of society or worrying about which way opinions will turn – though once I contact the beings living here I might, but that's a lesser concern. I_ could _always be the stereotypical witch that lives on the outskirts._ She laughed aloud at that thought, both from the ridiculousness of it and how she knew she would never settle for less than what her potential was. And she still didn't know what the limits of that potential were.

Staring up at the mysterious broken moon, she pondered her future, and what she wanted to make out of it. And who she wanted to be. _Do I want to be associated with Potter name here? It's my family name, but I have barely any knowledge of that family. I really only know that when I change my eye color it's the same as my mum's, and I have the flying skill of my dad, and some of their personality traits. So much of my family's history has been hidden or subverted that I have no clue about who they were, what they thought, their actions… or even their names._

 _The Potter name means nothing here, but do I want to keep it that way? I could make it mean something here; a powerful force. But do I want to keep the stigma with it –even if I were the only one who knew it? Honestly there's nothing that makes me want to keep using the name. More often than not it was spoken of in either hero-worship or vitriol and I have no positive connotations with the name 'Potter'._

 _While Voldemort may've been the one to nearly kill the line, Dumbledore was the one who made it easier for Voldemort to do so. And then Dumbledore effectively rewrote history in his favor, letting me get only scraps of knowledge that I don't even know if they're true. Damn that man…_

Forcing a sneer back, Harriet distracted herself from these self-indulgent thoughts and got a spoonful of food. She was about to take a bite when she stayed her hand. There was… something. A presence that felt reminiscent of Voldemort's shade. Or like a lesser Dementor (if it were possible), with all the malevolence, but none of the emotional torment and chilling cold. It was a deadening sensation, as if there was something that just escaped her senses but remained in her blind spot.

Even with this odd sensation, she could feel she was being watched, judged.

Judging if she were prey.

Standing up slowly and purposely, she slid her wand firmly into her hand, pointed down at the ground and looked for the source. In the darkness outside of her campfire, multiple glowing red eyes peered out, burning ember holes in the darkness. Further, similar red markings were illuminated around those eyes. Before she could react to being surrounded by unknowns, they struck.

With a sudden wolf-like snarl, a large creature leapt out, bone-white claws rushing down at her with the intent to kill. Harriet let loose a banisher, then blasted the night with a Lumos spell to see exactly what was attacking her.

It was shaped like a werewolf that took more of its features from canines than the human form. It stood on its hind legs, easily 3 meters tall at least. Its fur was an inky black that had white bone-like protrusions on its arms and legs. An outer skull-like mask protected its head, and on it were glowing red markings. A dark miasma wafted from its form like smoke, giving it an eerie, insubstantial form in the lighting.

 _What is this thing?_ Harriet wondered, as she took a more aggressive stance, logically thinking it was some sort of native animal to this world. However, even thinking that, the thought felt wrong –or not entirely accurate. At the moment though, she couldn't focus on these thoughts as the wolf-creature she'd temporarily blinded wasn't the only one to be concerned about.

Now that a path of action had been chosen, the others, which were also wolf-creatures, charged forward with a loud howl. Some went on all fours, others ran on two with a hunched gait –all were swift however. _Time to get to work,_ Harriet thought, a grin on her face at a chance to truly let loose. The first wolf, closer than the others was her first target.

It attacked, quicker than something that size would suggest, but she saw it coming and blasted it in the chest with a Confringo curse. With a large chunk of its front missing, the wolf fell to the ground with a whimper, unmoving. Aiming at the next closest, she split its head in half with a dark cutting curse, and fired off a series of Reductos into the pack. However, the Reductos merely slowed down and injured those it hit, not killing any of them (save for a few that got a headshot). Feeling her blood pumping, Harriet used a few transfiguration and animation charms to grow the grass underneath the pack and ensnare them, slowly squeezing them to death. The wolves howled and yipped in confusion, many struggling to escape.

Now that she had a moment, Harriet saw that the two she'd previously killed were doing something strange. Their bodies were disintegrating, turning into black smoke (much like they emitted) and evaporating like water into nothingness. _Is this natural for these creatures to do that when they're dead? Or is it some strange gimmick of this new world and the animals in it?_

Drawn from her thoughts yet again at a rise in the freocity of the snarling, Harriet saw that some of the wolves had torn themselves from the grass, though there were some that hadn't escaped, strangled by the grass and resulting in them swiftly disintegrating like the other two wolves, supposedly when they died. However, Harriet noticed more red glows from the darkness and realized that the pack was bigger than she originally thought _. Hmm… while this is entertaining, perhaps it's prudent to consider withdrawal. I probably am the one encroaching on their territory, and if I leave they might abandon the attack._

 _Then again, I'm sensing something particularly malevolent about these wolves. Almost makes me think of some of those experiments dark wizards tried on mundane animals I read about in the Black Library, though obviously not to this extent._

Once again, the present overtook her thoughts as the wolves attacked, though this time she noticed some spreading off to the side to try and attack her flanks. _Potentially problematic._ She busied herself by casting spells at the wolves, killing and incapacitating several. However the wolves got too close to her to be safe.

So she moved. Specifically apparating to the top of the bolder she was formerly sitting on. Now with a higher vantage point, she casted Bombardas into the pack, which were better suited for crowd control than Confringos or Reductos. The wolves seemed surprised at her sudden disappearance and were consequently caught off guard by the unexpected direction of her onslaught.

However, they were surprisingly adaptable, and recovered quickly to her concern. The first wolf to leap up at her was cut in half by a cutting curse, and the second was blasted with a jet of fire. But while casting the Incendio, she unintentionally left herself open. Harriet suddenly cried out in pain when a set of claws racked her left arm, leaving hot gashes in her skin. Thankfully the claws didn't cut too deep, and the wolf was outright disintegrated when she blasted it with a Bombarda Maxima.

To avoid the next wolf, she slid down the rock, cradling her wounded arm, unfortunately not having enough time to cast an Episkey on the gashes as the wolves were relentless. _I can't apparate away, I'm too distracted right now. I'm getting overwhelmed. Heh, I will not die here. I've come to far to be killed by a pack of oversized alien wolves._

She took a deep breath, and then let loose. Every curse she could think of she cast. Some working, like cutting and exploding curses, others not so much, like the organ-rotting curse… _Apparently they don't have organs to rot._ She soon got creative, raising parts of the earth to try and create bottlenecks, turning them to stone after she found out the hard way some of the wolves could just force their way through them, and abandoning the idea soon after when she noticed they were irritatingly good climbers and could just go over them –clambering over her defenses or straight up jumping over them.

Banishing pieces of rock at them wasn't effective either, unless the rocks were banished at high speeds that took a lot of power to do. These wolves were surprisingly tough and resilient, and that was exasperated by the fact that a portion of her spell repertoire was useless against them, as leg-lockers and Immobulus' targeted only single wolves and were only stalling them. To make things worse, the spells seemed to wear off abnormally quickly.

Further, the reckless abandon that they threw themselves at her gave her no time to prepare longer and complex transfigurations or charms. The wolves attacked with little to no regard of their lives. It seemed they were determined to kill her, regardless of how many of their number perished.

Harriet could feel herself getting tired from the constant spell-casting, but was determined to see this through and win. Eventually the pack seemed to dwindle out and the attacks ceased, and Harriet cautiously sought the top of the bolder for a vantage point to pick off any stragglers. Dark mist hung in the air from the evaporating bodies, turning the night sky a darker shade.

 _That was… thoroughly unpleasant,_ Harriet thought, finally taking a moment to mend her arm. _I hope there's something on this world I can use to brew a Blood-replenishing potion._ Her left side was drenched in blood, and she was feeling a massive headache building.

Focusing on making sure all the wolves were gone, she could hear some rustling but it was moving away from her, so she figured the pack had retreated due to the amount of casualties they sustained. _Those wolves were acting abnormal, like they had a purpose trying to kill me. Most animals would not attack as viciously without provocation, and the only thing I can come up with is I entered their territory. But even then that doesn't seem like it wou_ -

Pain. Disorientation. Falling.

When Harriet regained her senses, she was on the ground with intense pain crackling at the back of her head. _Feels like my skull got hit with a bludger…_ Harriet stumbled to her feet, half blind from pain and tears, clutching the back of her head in agony. Vaguely she felt her wand in her hand and she somehow muttered a numbing charm, mercifully dimming the pain so she could function enough to survive.

Squinting through the pain, she saw another wolf on top of the bolder she had just occupied. Maybe it was the lighting and it being perched higher up, or her still being out of it, but it looked larger than the other wolves. It clearly had more of and longer bone protrusions, and what looked like ribs on the outside of its' chest.

This thing, the Alpha of the pack Harriet dazedly realized, had more intelligence in those glowing red eyes. From its' left claw, it dropped a decently sized hunk of rock and sunk down to all fours, slowly, menacingly, climbing down to her. Seeing the rock drop from its claws connected the dots as to what happened. _It must've thrown a rock at me…_ A Protego shield spell would've protected her from that happening, but since all the other wolves had partaken in close quarters combat, she didn't see a need as their claws probably would've torn right through the shield spell. Part of her wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it –being taken out by a rock, caveman style- if she wasn't succumbing to a unwelcome emotion: fear.

As the irrational fear came over her and her mind started shutting down due to the emotion, she fell and started to crawl backwards, away from the monster. The alpha's tongue came out and licked its pointed teeth, looking hungry, as if sensing her fear. Only the Basilisk had drawn this sort of fear from Harriet, and this time she had less knowledge of what these creatures were. Yes they could be easily killed, but they kept coming, wearing her out for the stronger members of their species to strike.

 _No. No, I will not die here, not when I've won! Not when I've wrestled my life back from fate! I. Will. Not. Die!_ As had happened so many times in history, fear turned to anger. However, this anger brought fiery strength, determination, and an answer to her survival.

In her anger, her desperation, she cast one final curse – one of, if not the, most forbidden spells that exists.

Avada Kedavra.

The Killing Curse.

She knew the basic principles from her 4th year lesson with the fake Moody. It needs power and it needs the desire, the readiness to kill someone or something without a second thought. The absolute yearning to see the thing you're casting at dead.

She shouted the words, and as the green, sickening light erupted from her wand, she knew she had cast the Unforgivable spell correctly.

It sailed through the air, illuminating the area with a green glow, and it impacted against the black fur of the wolf.

For a second the wolf looked shocked. The world seemed to hold its breath.

And then the wolf took another step closer, a rumbling coming from its throat that could only be considered laughter.

The Killing Curse, the absolute ender of life, failed against this monster –doing nothing except providing it amusement.

The fear that Harriet felt returned with greater intensity. "How… how?" She weakly muttered as the creature advanced. Harriet shuddered and shouted, "G-get away!" trying in vain to crawl backwards faster. The monster kept the same relentless pace, content on indulging in her fear for as long as the game continued.

Once again in desperation, Harriet pointed her wand at the monster, with only one thought: die! Her magic reacted to her thought, taking the form that she was subconsciously familiar with.

One, two, ten, fifty, a hundred molten glass shards came into being, held together and given form by her magic. The monster paused, seeing this new phenomenon, but quickly came to the conclusion that the chase had to end _now_. With a growl, it lunged, its' teeth wide open to end the life of the weakened and wounded human in front of it.

But on the other side, the appearance of the glass shards was a sign, and brought renewed determination, a will to continue fighting. With a silent command and a thrust, the molten shards shot forward, appearing as blurs to the human eye.

Not all the glass shards impacted, many missing and sailing into the forest to create numerous small fires quickly snuffed out by the lack of burnable fuel in the damp climate. But those that did, did with vengeful effect. The monster lurched backwards from the sheer force of the glass shards, its fur and even bones penetrated by the molten glass in dozens of places. Additionally, due to their molten status, the penetrating glass nearly instantaneously cauterized the wounds while setting alight the fur on the outside.

In agonizing pain and now on fire, the wolf monster flailed around slapping at the wounds, its intelligence failing as it only drove the shards deeper. Harriet watched as the flailing and roars reached a crescendo, and then abruptly tapered off. The arms of the wolf dropped, it teetered, and with one last whimper, fell. Almost in slow motion, it fell. As it did though, it started evaporating, and the last vestiges vanished as soon as it impacted the ground.

The night was now silent, and the absence of growls and spells was somewhat unsettling. Harriet's breathing slowly got more under her conscious control and she took a moment to collect herself.

Or tried to. Her hands were still shaking and idly she realized that she was going through a state of shock, as she couldn't fully concentrate on anything. _That was… that was too close. Too close. Not since the Basilisk have I been that close. Not even the Horntail in the tournament was that close. I almost died. I… I should've died if not for my magic…_

In that moment she came to a sudden, unforgiving, and unwelcome realization: that she wasn't as powerful as she thought she was. That it was merely luck that saved her. Not her skill, not her knowledge, and while maybe her power did aid her she had no control over it.

 _I need to get better. I need to be stronger, need more power, to avoid this happening again._ Harriet slowly stood up, stumbling and falling on her knees as the strain on her body caught up to her.

 _Clickclickclickclickclick_...

A string of clicks from an unknown source cut through the silence, and yet again, the cold feeling of fear crept back into her veins. "No. No, no, no…" Feeling the sinking in her gut, Harriet knew her fight for survival wasn't over yet. Wearily she stood up, preparing to be defiant until the end.

A… thing appeared, creeping out of the gloom. In the moonlight it looked like an oversized shrimp, if it were a meter tall and had familiarly colored bone-white armor plating. Instead of antennae, a pair of spikes curved backwards, almost like horns. It had two claws, one being oversized, looking as if it had a noticeable hinge on it. The oversized claw was made of the bone-like structure, but the other claw only had the top part bone, the bottom the inky black skin. Its face had _four_ glowing red eyes and similar red markings as the wolves did, with also the same black smoke rising from it. This unquestionable similarity caused understandable concern for Harriet. _If this thing is similar to those wolves, then… I… I need to fight it, think later._

Too fatigued to ponder this further, she cast a Protego spell, learning from her mistakes and now thoroughly cautious at these… _things'_ capabilities. There was a moment where the two eyed each other, the creature considering its' course of action, and Harriet planning on surviving.

Then the oversized claw started creaking open with a – _crick-crick-crick_ \- sound, like a ratchet being cranked. Harriet bent her unsteady knees, readying for its inevitable charge where it would lunge with its' claw and-

 ** _THOOOom_**!

Harriet barely registered that the claw had snapped shut before she felt like a troll had socked her in the gut with a blunt club. Once again, she felt intense pain, but also scorching heat this time, as she found herself on her back, the world spinning. She could barely breath, gasping for air to refuel her lungs. As the ringing in her ears dissipated, she now could hear the _clickclickclickclick_ sound the creature made coming closer.

The _thing_ , had somehow shot something that had completely obliterated her Protego shield and smashed into her. It wasn't as if it bypassed the shield like Unforgivables, it just smashed through it with sheer brute force.

 _Come on! Get up! Get up! Fight!_ Harriet furiously told her body to react, and with a serious force of will, shoved herself so she was sitting upright. The shrimp-monster was crawling towards her, the 'normal' sized claw pinching madly, eager to tear into her body.

Harriet held up her wand again… and then she saw something truly terrifying. Hanging on by barely a thread of the phoenix feather core, her wand was snapped in half by the handle.

Her main weapon, her main defense, the symbol of modern witches and wizards, was useless now.

She stared, horrified at the remnants of her wand, and could feel her injuries and the strain that she put on her body catching up to her. This latest shock was the final nail in her bodies' will to fight. Blackness crept into her vision, and the last thing she saw was the glowing red eyes and markings of the monster. She heard the _crick-crick-crick_ of the oversized claw cocking itself again.

 _So… this is how it ends?_

The last thing she heard was a loud, _human_ , battle cry. Then everything went black and she knew no more.

* * *

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

* * *

 **I couldn't make it too easy for Harriet now could I? And don't worry, I plan on updating again before the year's up as I've found my motivation to write again, and I don't want to loose it until I've squeezed every drop of creativity I can from this latest wave. I ebb and flow.**

 **Can I also just say "Holy Hell" that I almost have a 1,000 favorites on this story? Well, Holy Hell then.**

 **Now for a minor rant/Explanation**  
 **Volume 6 of RWBY has premiered, I've seen the first episode, and I'm cautiously optimistic about the Volume. For me, Volume 4 was the start of something new from the old RWBY, and I was eager, yet slightly let down at the end of V4 (I like to call it Volume 4a and we needed a 4b - basically if felt like half a story told. [Also don't like some of the subtle ret-conning going on]). Volume 5 started strong... but the last several episodes went downhill quickly in pretty much _all_ aspects. This nearly killed my interest in RWBY. It also doesn't help that it seems that the writers realized they messed up. While I like it when writers do that, it also is kinda sad that they got to the point that they had to do that (If only Rian Johnson could so that for Ep 8...) That's another reason why I stopped writing RWBY stuff (and most of my stuff overall).  
So with the train-wreck that was Volume 5, I honestly feel like I'm too cautious and critical of RWBY now - especially since I have a reaction YT channel and actually somewhat review the episodes. I want to enjoy it, but the previous decisions made in V5 (and a lesser extent in V4) cast a dark shadow on my enjoyment of the series. I'll still watch it, but I won't defend it as much as I used to and I will question things a lot more.**  
 ***Rant End***

 **Now to some positive stuff, I've had the ideas for this chapter since the last one, but finalized them here. The shrimp Grimm is my own OC Grimm, you'll learn the name of it next chapter, but it's based off of the Pistol Shrimp, that uses a specialized claw to shoot a bubble of air underwater that can reach up to 4,700 C before it bursts and stuns its' target. Look it up, it's fascinating. Since certain Grimm now have the ability to shoot things (either spikes or hyper beams/fireballs), I felt it would be a neat addition.**

 **Also, the Avada Kedavera not working? We don't know much about the Grimm, so I'm taking the route that they're not truly 'alive' and are some sort of magical creation. A curse supposed to kill something that's alive won't work on the Grimm. I'm also using the theory that the spell doesn't kill the people, but rather instantaneously rips the soul out of the body, causing death as the body shuts down (unlike the husks left over after the Dementors kiss someone)**

 **Another nitpick I have is I don't like the recent animation** **choices in RWBY V4-V6 with the Grimm dissolving in about 2 seconds, before it would take a bit and there was some sort of carcass left after 'death' in V1-3, so I went for a middle ground. They're not around for as long as we see in V1-3, but they don't disappear as fast in V4-6.**

 **And Harriet did draw all those Grimm to her with the negative thoughts she was having before. Remember that the Grimm are drawn to negative emotion, and Harriet has plenty, so she'll eventually have to learn to control them better.**

 **So anyways, hope I haven't lost too many people with the large gap in time. Once again, I'll try to be more present on FF, but who knows? Oh, and a Happy Birthday to one Ruby Rose again, the sweet cherub she is!**

 **Don't forget to Read, Review, Favorite, and Follow!  
Until next time  
-OrangeGalen**


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